


sticks and stones

by brightbolt



Series: some things just make sense (and one of those is you and i) [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sports, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Hockey player AU, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Minor Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra), Minor Violence, Slow Burn, Trans Bow (She-Ra), adora is a d1 hockey player, can i make it any more obvious, catra is a former figure skater, don't take it super seriously it's mostly for funsies, horny dumbasses, in which adora is a hot jock and catra is mean girl sexy, rated M for violence + language mostly, yes trans bow. of COURSE trans bow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 50,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24360334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightbolt/pseuds/brightbolt
Summary: "Today, all hope of relaxing flew out the window the second Catra saw a person at center ice. From the distance, all she could make out was a blonde mass of hair, black skates, at least three dozen pucks gathered near a bucket, and a stick. Combined, these facts only added fuel to the fire that just ignited inside her.If it had been a fellow figure skater, she could get by with a few cold glares and a good amount of space. But a fucking hockey player?"Or, the national championship playoffs are getting closer and closer, and the Bright Moon Rebellion isn't going down without a fight. Will they clinch the cup? Or will the Fright Zone's Horde beat them to it?
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Scorpia (She-Ra), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: some things just make sense (and one of those is you and i) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781659
Comments: 304
Kudos: 1318





	1. pregame

**Author's Note:**

> hi everybody! i watched all of she-ra in a week, and i can't think about anything else. combine that with the painful absence of hockey in my life and we get this! no hockey knowledge is strictly necessary going into this fic, and i'll put a little dictionary of terms at the bottom to clarify some things. 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are very much appreciated! if you want to talk to me, drop me a line on tumblr @brightbolts. see ya later, you fuckin' beauts!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra makes a friend. Adora has a fall. The team plays a rivalry game.

All Catra wanted was some peace and quiet.

As if it wasn’t enough that her homework kept her up until midnight and the people next door kept her up longer, her roommate was making her go to some stupid hockey game that night, and she was dead tired from busting ass all weekto get into the honors program she was hoping to start the following Monday, there was someone on _her_ goddamn rink. 

Okay, well, obviously it wasn’t herrink in, like, legal terms. But at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, it wasn’t supposed to be _occupied_. 

This, the Bright Moon University Ice Arena, was where Catra went to solve her life’s problems. There was something calming, something meditative about a clean sheet of ice and an empty rink, with the only sounds coming from her skates carving neat lines through the smooth surface below her. 

Catra’s figure skating days were largely behind her (though she’d cleaned up more than a few competitions in her time), but there was part of it she could never quite leave behind. Normally, she’d spend a good hour or so doing laps or old, half-remembered routines before leaving to take a shower and sleep for another few hours. 

The absolutely crucial part of this tradition was, of course, complete and utter solitude.

Today, all hope of _that_ flew out the window the second Catra saw a person at center ice. From the distance, all she could make out was a blonde mass of hair, black skates, at least three dozen pucks gathered near a bucket, and a stick. Combined, these facts only added fuel to the fire that just ignited inside her. 

If it had been a fellow figure skater, she could get by with a few cold glares and a good amount of space. But a fucking _hockey player?_

Her eyes narrowed to thin, furious slits of blue and yellow. Storming over to the glass, she slammed her hand on the wall. “HEY!” She yelled, trying to get the person’s-- woman’s, she corrected, noticing a long ponytail -- attention. 

The woman turned towards her, face wrinkling into a confused frown. She skated over, coming to a well-practiced stop at the bench before walking over to let Catra in. She seemed vaguely familiar, though Catra couldn’t place where she knew her from. “Uh, hi? I’m sorry, is there something you need?”

“What I _need_ ,” Catra seethed, “Is for you to explain what you’re doing here this early.” 

The woman made that same confused frown, and cocked her head a bit to the side. If Catra wasn’t so tired, she might have found it endearing, especially with those silvery-gray eyes and that _ridiculous_ jawline she sported. “Practicing? Why else would I be here?” Her eyes widened. “Hey, aren’t you in my history lecture? It’s Catra, right?”

“Uh. Sure.” So that’s why she looked familiar. Catra racked her brain for a name -- now that she brought it up, Catra was sure she’d heard her name before.It started with an A -- Amy or Anna, maybe? 

She smiled and stretched out a hand. “Adora.”

 _Adora! That was it_.

Catra made no move to shake the offered hand. “Adora. Got it. Listen--” She cut off with a long, deep yawn. It was too early in the morning to do this. “You know what? I don’t care.” Catra pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just- try to stay off to one side. I don’t want to get hit by a stray puck.”

The woman -- _Adora_ \-- scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her. Her hair, Catra noticed, had this stupid little poof sticking up at the front. “Please. My aim is _way_ too good for that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not betting my teeth on it,” Catra said, shifting the bag on her shoulder. “Move it, princess.” 

Moving aside, Adora looked her up and down with a raised eyebrow, arms still-- holy shit _,_ she was _ripped_. Her shirt, white, long-sleeve and _far_ too tight for Catra’s personal early-morning comfort, did nothing to hide the toned, defined muscle of her arms. She began to tap a finger on her bicep, and Catra tried _really_ hard not to fixate on the forearm muscles she saw moving underneath. “ _Princess_ , huh? A little early for pet names. I mean, we barely even know each other, Catra.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the hair poof,” Catra said, nodding in the middle of tying her skates to the lump of hair on top of the hockey player’s head. “We’re old friends. I think I met it in a pet store when I was a kid.” 

Adora tried to hide a chuckle, shaking her head in fake hurt. “You’re breaking my heart, you know that?”

“You’ll be fine.” Catra finished her laces and stood up. Finally on equal height with her newfound nemesis, she crossed her own arms, mirroring the other’s stance.

Turning, Adora shrugged. “Whatever. I’ve heard worse. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” She said, walking back to the ice with a sarcastic, exaggerated bow, “I have business to attend to.”

“Wait.” Catra was surprised she had spoken, if she was honest, but she had to admit that Adora was... growing on her a little. _Only_ a little. She admired people who could take a chirp well. 

(The rock-solid jawline, broad shoulders, and absurdly well-muscled arms and legs had nothing to do with it.) 

Stopping at the edge of the ice, Adora turned towards her with that same confused frown. “What now? I thought you wanted me gone.”

“Yeah, I mean, I do.” Catra looked her up and down, lingering on the shiny gray-black skates on Adora’s feet. From what she knew of hockey skates, they were a model near the top of the line. _Someone with skates like that and a self-prescribed call time of 6am_ has _to be competitive,_ she thought. 

An idea popped into her head. “But…” She said, dragging the word out, “I still need to warm up. Feel like a quick race?”

She knew her hunch had struck home when Adora’s eyes widened and the frown on her face grew into a deadly grin. She poked a (long and callused, not that Catra noticed) finger at the center of Catra’s chest. “You’re _on_.”

Unfortunately, the doors to the rink chose that time to swing open with a _clash_. A voice, deeper and more masculine, filtered out from what Catra figured must be the locker rooms. “--Adora! I knew you’d be here.” _More of them? Are you fucking kidding me?_ She swiveled to see a tall man wearing a crop top with _BRIGHT MOON HOCKEY_ splayed across the front with an arrow shot through it. Judging by the jagged bottom edge, it started its life as a normal shirt.

“Don’t listen to him. He thought you were asleep until about two minutes ago.” A shorter woman came out and stood next to Crop Top. She had short purple hair (which, Catra had to admit, looked pretty dope) and wore a glittery pink shirt emblazoned with their school’s logo -- a crescent moon -- over a pair of athletic shorts. “Finish up quick, though, okay? Coach wants to talk to us.”

Adora flashed a toothy, near-blinding grin and gave a thumbs-up before turning back to Catra, who was still just as tired and just as uncaffeinated. “Duty calls. I’m holding you to that race, though,” She said, stepping onto the ice to pick up her pucks with a grin. “And I don’t intend to lose to some punkass figure skater.”

Catra narrowed her eyes and flashed her canines. “Well, _I_ don’t intend to lose to some muscled-up jock. I guess we’ll have to see, huh?” It came out with a bit more of a purr than Catra had intended, and she groaned internally. That was _not_ supposed to come out as flirty as it did. She hoped Adora hadn’t noticed it.

Returning with her bucket and stick, Adora raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that told Catra she had _definitely_ noticed it. “I guess so.” With a wink and a yell to Arrow Boy and Sparkles, she left, and Catra was left with carved-up ice and a weird, warm feeling running through her. 

On the bright side, she was finally alone. That alone gave her some peace of mind. Shaking off the assorted feelings the previous encounter had inspired in her, she took her first step onto the ice and closed her eyes, letting herself be lost in the graceful arcs and spins her body created in rhythm to the song playing over her headphones. 

Time passed, and the first true light of the sun began to shine through the impossibly tall windows that framed the rink. Catra felt its warmth flow through her. This was her favorite part -- the moment when the sun rose, the world fell away, and she could just _be_. 

Just as her song ended and the next began, she thought she heard a door slam shut. Frowning a little, she tried to figure out where it had come from, but all she was greeted with was an empty ice rink. While she was looking at the bleachers trying to find the source of the sound, her earlier promise to her roommate popped into her head. She groaned. 

Apparently, Scorpia was the backup goalie for the campus hockey team (Catra still wasn’t super sure which one, as there were several), and their starter had gotten an injury that would keep her out for the rest of the season. Tonight was Scorpia’s first game, and Catra had promised her she’d come. 

Well, sort of. Her memory of the event was that she was half-listening (Scorpia tended to ramble) and had just agreed mindlessly when she thought she’d been asked a question. Turns out, she had, and the next thing she knew Scorpia yelled in excitement and hugged her so tight she thought her ribs would break. 

She looked at the time. It read 7:02. _Already?_ Taking a few last looks and debating on taking a few final laps, Catra sighed. Before long, the D1 team would be here for their 8am practice, and if she was anywhere _near_ the Bright Moon Rebellion’s precious morning skate, they would probably rip her to shreds. _Time to go, then_.

Well, at least by the time she was showered, fed, and had slept for a few more hours, she’d be in a better mood.

*** * ***

Adora hadn’t been expecting the morning to go the way it did. 

Game-day rituals were sacred among hockey players, and hers was always the same: go to the rink at 5, stay for the sunrise, go on a quick run with Bow and Glimmer, show up 10 minutes before morning skate started to get in the zone, and do her 15-step handshake with Swift Wind before the game. 

Today, due to some combination of sleep deprivation and the foolish notion that she would wake up on time without one, she had forgotten to set her alarm, and ‘go to the rink at 5’ turned into ‘go to the rink at 6.’ 

Adora did her best not to worry about the possibility that she had broken her routine. Superstition was no stranger to her, and she felt overrun with worry by the time she made it to the rink, panting a little from the exertion of running halfway across campus with a stick and a full bag of hockey gear. Just the sight of the building put her at ease -- the purple and silver of their school’s banners caught the early morning light with such ease and beauty they were hard to look away from -- and she felt like she could finally take a breath.

Unlocking the rink with the keys Mara, who graduated just before her freshman year, definitely _hadn’t_ passed down to each new captain, she made her way towards the pristine sheet of ice calling to her. 

Every time, that first step out was transformative. She became a completely different person when she set foot on the ice. Her focus sharpened and narrowed, distractions left her mind, and it was as if she could feel her eyes glowing as she scanned the ice from side to side with lightning speed. 

Adora had as good a shot as anyone else, but her real strength lay in her ability to read plays and get the puck up the ice. She’d been told it was uncanny. Somehow, she _always_ knewthe right place to pass, and always found the perfect weakness in the defense to exploit with her linemates. Ever since her freshman year, she’d led the team in assists. It was one of the reasons her coaches had chosen her for this year’s captain, she remembered proudly, dumping a bucket of pucks on the ice. 

As she began to fire them on goal from different points, she let her mind continue to wander.

Speaking of her coaches, it helped that this team wasn’t being coached by a lame misogynist. In all the time Adora had spent playing for high-level teams -- not all of which were fully co-ed, mind you -- she’d only had a few good coaches. She was especially grateful to Micah and Angella for how well they’d handled-- 

Adora stopped her slapshot wind-up abruptly.

Well. She didn’t want to think about _that_. 

Blinking a few times, she checked the time. About 6:30. _Shit. Bow and Glimmer will want to run soon._ Clocking the locations of the pucks scattered around the ice, she skated over to the first clump and began the job of pushing them back over in the bucket’s general direction.

Back to the coaches, then. Micah and Angella - the King and Queen, as they were called back in the day -- almost single-handedly led their year’s Rebellion to a national championship three years in a row, and had only given up the last one to the Horde in double overtime. 

Now, twenty or so years later, they were looking to do it again. Playoffs were starting soon, Adora mused. That meant more training, better senses, and absolutely _no_ distractions--

“HEY!” 

Adora turned, frowning in confusion, and saw a _very_ angry-looking person with short-cropped brown hair banging on the glass. Sighing internally, she skated over to figure out what was going on. 

Turns out Catra, who she remembered from her lecture a few days back, _also_ liked to skate early in the morning. Who would’ve thought? Adora had found someone who was not only _incredibly_ hot in a mean-girl kind of way, she also turned out to be witty and sharp as hell (as far as Adora knew, she’d never gotten below a 95 on their tests), and she could _skate_. 

She was almost bummed when Bow and Glimmer crashed their chance meeting, but the idea of racing Catra appealed so perfectly to her competitive nature that she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but excitement. 

_Plus_ , she thought, feeling her feet pound the pavement with every step and her ponytail flapping in the wind, _she was staring at my arms the whole time._

“Adora, wait up!” Bow was panting next to her -- well, behind her, really, but she didn’t want to embarrass him -- with his hands on his hips and his chest heaving. “What’s gotten into you today?”

Adora slowed down just a bit, jogging in place for a moment while waiting for Bow and Glimmer to catch up. “Huh? Nothing! Just, you know…” What was she going to say? _Just thinking about fucking up my routine the same day we’re starting our backup goalie? Wondering if there’s any softness behind Catra’s mean-girl exterior?_ She plastered on a smile. “Just pumped for tonight!”

Glimmer, who had been a few feet behind Bow, caught up to them. “Okay, well, not to be rude, but do we have to be pumped with you? God, are you even _sweating_?”

“Uh, yeah! Of course I’m sweating,” Adora lied, wiping away nonexistent sweat from her forehead. “But, hey, you guys are free to do whatever you want. I’m probably gonna keep going, and you’re welcome to come with.”

Bow and Glimmer locked eyes for a second and seemed to have an entire conversation in the span of a few seconds. When she first met them, Adora was a _little_ terrified at how well they knew each other. It took them a little bit of time to incorporate Adora into their chemistry -- both on and off the ice -- but she liked to think of herself as an extra boost to what they already had going on. In the years since she’d started at Bright Moon, they’d become close. Like, _really_ close. They’d helped her through one of the toughest times of her life. 

Now, they were the team’s leadership. When Adora thought about it too long (how far they’d come, how different it would be), she usually got a little misty-eyed. In practical terms, though, that meant they all had to be in top shape -- especially her. So she woke up at 4:30 on game days, practiced on the ice, and went for long runs. She survived on protein bars, protein shakes, and caffeine. 

In front of her, her friends seemed to finish their silent conversation. Bow turned to Adora. “Okay, so we love you very much, which you know--”

Adora nodded seriously, putting her hands on her hips. “This is true. I love you too.”

“-- _But_ it’s not even 8 in the morning, aaaand I feel like my heart is about to drop out of my ass.” Bow pressed his lips together in a straight line, making a little _I’m-sorry_ motion with his hands.

Glimmer nodded, adding, “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for this as a game-day ritual! Just… maybe we can skip to the breakfast part today.”

Now _that_ was an idea. Sometimes, before very special home games, the three of them had a post-run breakfast at The Beacon. It was a pancake joint a few blocks down from campus, and Light Hope, the owner, had harbored something of a soft spot for Mara back when she played for the team. Luckily for them, that goodwill translated into free food for the players on game days.

For a fleeting moment, Adora considered just going with them. If it had been any other day, she probably would have, but ahead of her, the trail stretched out. Her body was itching to move. Her lips curved up into a tight-lipped smile. “You guys go, alright? I’ll catch up.” 

(She pretended not to notice the worried look Glimmer and Bow shared.)

“You sure?” Glimmer asked, a note of concern in her voice.

“Yeah, I think I’m just gonna go… I dunno, sprint some nerves out. You guys get a table, alright? I’ll be there in 15.” 

Glimmer looked like there was more she wanted to say, but Bow put a hand on her shoulder and gave Adora a thumbs-up. “We’ll ask Light Hope for your usual.” Waving goodbye, he and Glimmer set off down the sidewalk towards The Beacon, leaving Adora on the trail alone.

She _was_ nervous. They were playing the Horde -- as in, their biggest rivals, and the dirtiest team in the league -- tonight. For those watching, the Rebellion/Horde rivalry games were some of the most exciting in college hockey, but Adora always took the results personally. As captain, it was hard not to. Wins felt electric, like pure adrenaline coursing through her veins. Losses made her feel like she’d been punched in the gut. The Rebellion had the best goaltending in the league -- up until Huntara, a first-round pro draft pick, tore her ACL. They were starting their backup tonight, which made Adora more nervous than she cared to admit.

That meant there was no room for error. Marking the distance with her eyes, she began her sprints, trying to ignore the fluttery nervousness in her chest growing larger by the second.

*** * ***

“Dude, you want me to do fucking _what_?” Catra crossed her arms, her voice high and indignant. “Scorpia, _come on_. The game starts at 8pm. Why the fuck do I have to be there _two hours early?_ What am I gonna do for two hours?”

Scorpia shook her head quickly, and gently grabbed Catra on either shoulder in an attempt to placate her. “You don’t have to stay for all of it! Just, y’know, swing by for a second! Meet the team!” Scorpia put on an encouraging smile. “Come on, please? For me?” 

Catra held firm for about thirty more seconds before giving in with a huff. “ _Fine_. I’ll stop by and say hello, shake some hands, and then I’ll be back for the game, I guess.”

Scorpia beamed, pumping her fist. “Yes!” Then, in a practiced maneuver, tackled Catra in a massive bear hug. “Thank you! You won’t regret this, I promise.” 

“Yeah. Right.” Catra _knew_ she was going to regret this. Mustering up all the resolve she could, she tried to make the best of her situation.

The time rolled around sooner than she was expecting, and before she knew it she was trying to figure out what to bring with her. 13 years of skating, and she’d never been to a hockey game. 

In the end, she settled on the essentials: her phone, her wallet, her headphones, and snacks. As a student, she wouldn’t have to pay for a ticket, but the food prices at every sports game were outrageous. Better not to risk it. 

The walk to the rink looked different when the sun was traveling down rather than up, she realized. Different lighting, different shadows, different people walking by. _Different me_ , she noted. She tended to get more agreeable the longer she’d been awake, and normally hit a peak in the middle of the day. After that, it was downhill again. Scorpia liked to call it Catra’s very own bell curve. 

She made her way through the familiar bleachers of the rink until she reached the glass. The ice had clearly been resurfaced since she was on it that morning, and part of her longed to carve it up. Then, she heard them. 

Voices, and _lots of them_ , coming from the tunnel to the locker room. Words and conversations mingled as the team emerged in shorts and sneakers, clearly in the middle of a pregame warm-up. Catra spotted Scorpia right away and gave her a quick nod. She scanned the faces of the others lining up on the bottom of the bleachers and saw a few vaguely familiar faces -- and then one _very_ familiar one. 

Adora was stretching at the bottom of the bleachers a few rows down from where she was standing, and had traded her long-sleeve shirt for an equally tight grey t-shirt with a small C on the left shoulder. 

(Regrettably, the hair poof was still present.)

Details from that morning came together with an almost audible _click_ in Catra’s mind: the practice, the fancy skates, the wakeup call -- of _course_ this would be the team Adora played for. _She_ would _be the captain_ , Catra thought, eyes lingering a few seconds longer than strictly necessary on the line of her triceps. 

She was jolted from that, however, by the sound of Adora yelling. “Alright, on me! Legs in 3, 2, 1!” A beat after the final number, every member of the team began running up the steps. Catra found it hard to look away from the determination in Adora’s eyes. It framed her face well, working its way into the hard set of her jaw and the bounce of her ponytail with every step she took. 

Then, her eyes darted towards her on a whim, and Catra watched as she blinked in confusion. Her head swiveled a full 90 degrees, and before either of them knew it, the rest of her body crashed onto the steps. 

Out of reflex, Catra winced, then walked over, offering a hand. “You alright, _Captain_?” If she purred the word, she wouldn’t admit it. 

Adora opened her mouth and blinked once, twice before seeming to realize she’d been offered help. She took Catra’s outstretched hand and pulled herself up with a groan. “You again, huh? Listen, I hate to say it, but the rink isn’t exactly open to the public at the moment. On account of… you know.” She waved a hand towards her teammates.

It was Catra’s turn to awkwardly blink. “I-- yeah, I know. I’m here for the game.” 

“Oh.” Adora frowned again. “You’re early.”

“Yes, I _know that--_ ” Catra cut herself off, closing her eyes and taking a breath. “My roommate-- _Scorpia_ wanted me to come meet the team. Tonight’s her first game starting in goal, right?”

“Oh! Yes. It-It is. Um.” Adora opened her mouth to say something before deciding otherwise.

Catra narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“You’re, um. You’re still holding my hand.” Adora was trying and failing miserably to hide a blush.

Catra looked down and was greeted with the sight of two joined hands. _Shit._ “Oh. Um. Right.” Suddenly embarrassed, Catra let go far too quickly than was probably polite.

If Adora noticed, she didn’t comment. “Well, anyway, it’s nice of you to do that for her.” 

Tamping down the blush she could feel starting to spread, Catra shrugged with as dismissive an air as she could muster. “It’s nothing. She’s-- y’know, a good friend to me.” 

“Right,” Adora said, eyes shining with something Catra couldn’t place. “Well, come meet the team, then!” She started hustling back down the stairs. Sometime in between Adora falling and Catra revealing that she does, on occasion, feel an emotion, the rest of the team had finished their run. They stood, panting, around the tunnel’s opening. 

As soon as she saw Catra, Scorpia broke out into a huge smile and waved her over before presenting her proudly to the group. “Oh, good, you met Adora! Everyone else, I want you to meet my best-friend-slash-roommate!” Catra waved awkwardly at the circle of people.

“Oh, I remember you! We saw you earlier today, right?” A man she recognized as Arrow Boy from that morning was smiling at her. Sure enough, there was Sparkles next to him. Both of them had a small A on their practice shirts. “I’m Bow! I’m #14 on the ice.”

Catra couldn’t help herself. “You’re kidding. That’s your _name_?” 

Bow nodded, seemingly unbothered. “Sure is! I picked it myself,” He said proudly.

“So, is the arrow gimmick on purpose? Or--”

“ _Actually_ ,” Sparkles interrupted, frowning at her from beside Bow, “It’s because he’s gotten so good at _sniping_. I once watched him nail a target in a moving car from 50 feet away.” 

Scorpia nodded cheerfully. “It’s true! Bow’s got killer aim. Speaking of moving,” Scorpia said, gesturing to Sparkles, “This is Glimmer!” Sparkles -- whose real name was really _Glimmer_ , apparently, as if it made a difference -- did a big, overdramatic curtsy. “#7. Fastest skater on the team by a long shot.” 

Now, Glimmer’s frown was replaced by a slight blush, and she waved a dismissive hand. “Aw, come on. Cut it out.” 

Scorpia continued, and introduced Catra to at least ten more people. There were Sea Hawk and Mermista, who played together as a defensive pair even though it looked like Mermista was a few seconds from wringing his neck at any given moment; Perfuma, who wasn’t much for checking or physical contact, but was an excellent passer; and Frosta, who _was_ much for checking, and held the team record for most penalty minutes in a single year.

Then, there was another defensive pair named Spinnerella and Netossa who spent the whole time arguing over which of them had a better shot while holding hands; and some guy named Swift Wind -- _is that his real name or just a nickname? --_ that had more hair than brain cells, but seemed sweet. 

Finally, Scorpia ended with--

“--Adora, our fearless She-Ra!”

At the mention of her name, Adora put on a shy smile, giving Catra a little wave. “Hi. I’m team captain, I center our first line with Bow and Glimmer on the wings, and I wear #18.” 

Catra frowned. “Wait, _She-Ra_? What’s that?”

“That,” Bow said proudly, “Is Adora’s nickname.”

“Sometimes when she’s on the ice, she can get a little… aggressive,” Glimmer said, seamlessly picking up where Bow left off. “That’s when She-Ra comes out. She gets this crazy goal-scoring, punchy tunnel vision. It’s _awesome_.”

Bow nodded sagely, then leaned in towards Catra and spoke with the loudest stage whisper she’d ever heard. “Last year, she leveled three guys at the same time because they tripped me in the first period. Took out a whole line. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Adora jabbed an elbow into Bow’s side. “Wh-whaaaat?” She laughed nervously. “That’s-that’s totally exaggerated. Come on, I doubt Catra wants to hear about _that_.”

“Wow,” Catra coughed, trying in vain to erase the image of Adora and her sexy, defined arms beating the shit out of people. “That’s-- wow. Maybe I’ll get to see her tonight.” Before she could embarrass herself further, she started her goodbyes. “Well. Nice to meet you guys. I’m sure you have more important things to do than this, so I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you to it. Good luck tonight. Break a leg, or something. Uh. Lose a tooth.” Spinning on her heel, she turned to leave. 

Behind her, she heard Adora give out a few commanding-sounding orders before the team started to move again, and ducked into the main lobby to let them continue. She ignored the feeling blossoming in her chest -- a dangerous mixture of warmth and, unfortunately, excitement -- at the sound. 

Hockey had never had much of an appeal to her. She had bumped into enough players in her time to get a vague sense of how the game worked -- ice, pucks, sticks, fighting -- but there had never been much of a spark for her. _Now, though…_ Catra let her mind wander, and gray eyes and a smug grin popped into her mind unbidden. She shook her head hard, as if trying to physically dislodge the traitorous, horny thoughts her mind was conjuring up. 

It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- morning skate: morning practice, usually before a game.  
> \- slapshot: a shot taken when a player lifts the stick up a few feet off the ground before bringing it back down hard to send the puck forward. more powerful than a wrist shot.  
> \- checking: means many things, but is here used to mean being knocked over on the ice to separate a player from the puck.  
> \- lines: group of three offensive players that go out in alternating shifts. consist of two players on the left and right (called wings) and a center.


	2. a gordie howe hat trick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's game time in Bright Moon! 
> 
> Adora gets a glimpse of her past. Catra hides behind frat boys. The team fights tooth and nail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i got possessed by a horny nhl commentator writing this one. sometimes you finish a series and write 13k in three days to cope. anyway, there's a lot of actual hockey playing in this chapter, and there probably won't be quite so much in the future -- i know it's not everyone's favorite thing. also i know i said this would be a lighthearted fic (and it is!) but there will be a few trigger warnings in this chapter and the next for some more serious subject matter. i promise it'll all end well!
> 
> again, there'll be a brief definition of terms at the end for those not as familiar with hockey. kudos and comments are, as always, appreciated!
> 
> \- tw for violence, fighting, and blood -

Five minutes into the first period, Adora knew something was off. 

The Horde usually started their top line against their team, but tonight, her first faceoff at center ice was against some rando second liner. They were still excellent players, of course -- the Horde had never tolerated weakness -- but something about the whole situation put Adora off-balance. 

Her line’s first shift of the game got them off to a rocky start. Glimmer turned over the puck on a bad pass, and Sea Hawk took a check on the boards that had his head almost visibly spinning. Mermista almost dropped the gloves at the two-minute mark, which Adora thought was a pretty good estimator for how the rest of the game would go. 

Luckily, all it took for the line to recover from that shaky beginning and settle into a familiar rhythm was Bow getting his stick on the puck and passing it hard to Adora on their second shift. 

As she made her way up the ice, power skating with purpose, she decided to put on a bit of a show for the crowd. _Definitely the crowd_ , she thought, thinking of mismatched eyes watching her. 

As he tried to block her, Adora spun around the defenseman, pulling the puck with her, and sent a rocket of a wrist shot onto one of the goalie’s pads. It was deflected easily by the goalie, bouncing off to the side, but Adora wasn’t swayed. 

After all, the point of that shot wasn’t to score. 

Just like she planned, the puck bounced off the pad right onto Glimmer’s stick. In the half-second she had an opening, Glimmer roofed it right into the now-exposed net. 

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

The game’s first goal horn sounded, nearly drowned out by the noise of the victorious home crowd, and Adora felt relief and exhilaration wash over her in equal measure as she jumped onto Glimmer in celebration. 

That move was one they’d spent hours perfecting. The idea was perfect: Adora, putting on a show, would fake a breakaway, which provided an excellent distraction for the defensemen and goalie alike. More importantly, it drew the attention away from Glimmer while she zoomed up the other side of the ice to get in position. 

Adora and Bow were both above average skaters, but _Glimmer_? Holy shit. She could outpace them all in a second. The team called it teleporting when she did that -- there in one second, and a hundred feet away by the next.

It got the game off to a good start. The crowd, packed into the bleachers, was deafening, and Adora took in their applause and noise like a drug. A signal from Angella told her her shift was up. As she began to skate off the ice to let the next line on, she looked around for a second, scanning the faces of the crowd looking for--

“Adora, come on!” From the bench, Glimmer was waving her over hastily, motioning for her to get off the ice.

Adora took one last look around before she skated back over. As she stepped through the gate onto the bench before plopping down, her teammates greeted her, Bow, and Glimmer with pats on the back and words of congratulations. The time on the scoreboard read 13:29. That was good. An early advantage could be really useful for them, especially if--

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

Adora shot to her feet as the goal horn sounded, but this time, it wasn’t in celebration. She barely heard it as the stands started booing loud enough to shake the arena. On the other side of the ice, she saw Scorpia shaking her head in frustration. Adora looked up, eyes hard and jaw set, to see if there would be an instant replay. 

_Shit_.

“So _that’s_ where their top line went,” Adora muttered, watching on the Jumbotron as three all-too-familiar red and black uniforms of the Horde barreled through Mermista and Sea Hawk, weaving the puck between the three of them before faking Scorpia out. 

Bow frowned beside her. “Not gonna lie, something about this situation doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Me either,” Glimmer agreed. “We need to keep an eye out.”

Adora turned to them. “What we _need_ is to score another goal. Two, preferably. The Horde is good enough at adapting that they won’t fall for the Teleport maneuver again. Not during this period, anyway.” She hesitated a moment as Micah, suit pressed and beard braided for the occasion, came up behind them with a small whiteboard. “Hey, Coach. What’s our move?” 

As Micah began to explain the play (which boiled down to opening up a lane so Bow could make a long-distance shot on a nearly impossible target), Adora couldn’t help but notice someone on the other side of the glass staring at her from the Horde’s bench. 

_Is that-- it can’t be._

It was. 

Shadow Weaver stood behind the Horde with her arms crossed, looking over every so often at where Adora sat. 

All at once, Adora felt her blood rush to her head, and heard her heart pounding in her ears loud enough to drown out Micah’s voice. Her mind was a jumbled mess, thoughts bouncing around at light speed as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing. 

“--Adora? Hey, Adora, are you alright?” She whipped around to see the other three staring at her. Genetics ensured that Micah shared the same _concerned-but-trying-not-to-show-it_ face that she was so used to seeing from Glimmer, and between that and the gentle hand Bow rested on her shoulder, it was almost too much for her to bear.

“I’m fine,” Adora snapped. “Get the puck to Bow, free up a shooting lane so he won’t have trouble. Anything else?”

Micah cleared his throat, eyes flicking somewhere behind Adora before meeting hers again. God, she could _feel_ Shadow Weaver’s stare boring into the back of her skull. “Uh, nope. That’s all, cap. Your next shift’ll start soon, so get ready.” 

Adora nodded, closing her eyes and trying to tune out the noise, trying instead to focus on her breathing, like Angella had taught her when she first joined the team. By the time she stepped onto the ice again, she was ready.

Her next two shifts didn’t go as planned. The Horde was always one infuriating step ahead of them, always skating by with fresher legs and better vision, and _always_ ready to pounce on even the smallest mistake. Netossa and Spinnerella replaced Sea Hawk and Mermista on the ice, allowing them a brief respite, and that brief period of change gave Adora, set up behind her own goal, a bit of time to assess the situation.

If Shadow Weaver was coaching the Horde, she was helping with skating. That much was clear. As a former champion figure skater, she knew the intricacies of edgework and speed. Both of those seemed to translate into the Horde’s playing style. They made the sport look effortless, while her team was fighting to keep up.

 _The Horde is better-conditioned,_ Adora thought, _so that means we have to be smarter. Find their weak spots._

Then, the change was over, and she sent the puck over to Spinnerella before moving up the ice again for two more barely-missed shot attempts.

Finally, the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the first period. The score, thankfully, was still 1-1, and Adora knew she had Scorpia to thank for that. Walking back into the locker room, responding to her teammate’s comments with tight smiles and one-word answers, Adora felt a familiar burn somewhere behind her ribcage. 

She-Ra was coming out during this game. Adora didn’t know how or when, but she knew as soon as the first period ended that this game wasn’t going to end without a fight.

*** * ***

Catra still wasn’t _super_ sure how hockey worked with regards to, like, the actual rules, but a quick Google search a few minutes before the game told her that penalties meant a player had a time-out for two minutes in a little box; that lines could change, but only sometimes; and that body slams were not only allowed, but encouraged.

(She saw that last one in action multiple times, with the most memorable coming when Adora slammed a Horde player up against the boards almost effortlessly near the start of the period. The crowd had gone _berserk_. Her own reaction had been… slightly different, and she was suddenly glad she was sitting alone.)

Even though she’d never admit it out loud, she was actually pretty impressed by how well Scorpia was doing. The Horde had fired shot after shot on goal, and only one had made its way in throughout the game so far. _Pretty good for a backup goalie_ , Catra thought idly, eyes flicking back and forth across the ice. 

They were well into the second period by this point, and the score was still tied up. Catra saw a blonde ponytail sticking out of a helmet skate onto the ice during what she now knew was a line change, and tried to ignore the instant spike in her heart rate at the sight. #7 had the puck -- that was Glimmer, she thought -- and sent it over, hard, to #18. 

Adora stopped at the blueline on the far right side, waiting for the rest of her teammates to catch up while she came up with a plan. 

Catra realized what was going to happen about a second before Adora did. 

She remembered years of hockey coaches yelling during practices while she was on the other half of the ice. More than anything, she remembered one phrase: keep your head up.

If she had just _turned_ , Adora would haveseen him coming, and it wouldn’t have been an issue. Instead, she hesitated for a second too long, looking over at where Bow was getting in position, and it was enough time for a Horde player to come out of nowhere and send her flying at least six feet before crashing into the boards.

Feeling a sudden drop in her stomach, Catra watched as Adora slammed shoulder-first into the wall with a sickening _crack_. Distantly, she heard whistles blown, but all she could focus on was Adora’s body sliding limply down the wall before she pushed herself into a kneeling position on the ice, and-- _Jesus, was that blood?_

Bow and Glimmer skated over almost instantly. Glimmer got up in the offending player’s face, jabbing a gloved finger into the guy’s chest and yelling something drowned out by the boos of the crowd. Behind them, Bow and someone else -- Mermista, Catra thought, but that was just a guess -- started to help Adora up off the ground, her head lolling dangerously forward as they did. 

With Adora making her way back to the bench, the ref skated to center ice to give the call -- boarding, which sounded self-explanatory -- and the Horde player skated into a little box beside the benches. A timer went up, signaling five minutes, and the crowd booed him even louder, taunting and jeering as four Horde players faced off against five from the Rebellion. 

Catra wasn’t totally paying attention to the game at this point. All she could focus on was Adora, who had her helmet off and was getting what looked like a concussion test. After a second, she seemed to argue with the woman administering it about something for a second. She seemed satisfied with the outcome, and pulled her helmet back on, rolling the shoulder that had taken the blow a few experimental times.

It seemed like almost no time had passed when Adora, Glimmer, and Bow were back on the ice again, faced off against a shorthanded Horde team. There was still 2:32 left to go in the power play. 

Adora faced off against the other center in her team’s offensive zone, and won the draw almost without a care, sending the puck back to Bow, who started passing it to players around the zone to keep the Horde guessing. 

Glimmer faked a shot from one side before sending it flying to Adora, who wound her stick up and sent it crashing forward against the ice in the span of a second, sending the puck spinning through the air just as it found her. As if in slow motion, Catra watched as it _dinged_ against the bar on the top of the goal and dropped in -- directly behind the goalie. 

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

The goal horn rang through the arena, and the crowd went ballistic.

Normally, when she saw people score a goal, they smiled or celebrated after. This time, Adora just nodded once to Glimmer and skated back over toward center ice to set up for her faceoff. 

_That was different_ , Catra thought, frowning. Adora had been putting on a bit of a show for her home crowd throughout the whole first period. Now, she didn’t even seem to notice them-- wait a second. What was it Glimmer said? Adora got determined, focused, and aggressive? Holy shit.

She-Ra was coming out. 

Catra tried to ignore the heat that welled up in her at the thought. _Well, this should be good._

*** * ***

First of all, that hit had fucking _sucked_. 

One second Adora’s trying to open up a passing lane to Bow, and the next, she’s flying through the air and slamming into glass and wood. Her shoulder was fine -- well, according to Angella, who had rushed over with a concussion kit and done a quick inspection, it was probably bruised to shit, but it wasn’t broken or dislocated. To Adora, that was enough.

(Then again, she had bit the inside of her cheek _hard_ when that hit knocked her against the boards. At this point, she was just glad she still had all of her teeth.)

Angella had tried to convince her to go back to the locker room and sit the rest of the period out, but Adora wasn’t having any of it. 

“See that guy?” She asked, nodding her head across to the penalty box, she saw a big, douchey looking guy grinning at her. He made a call-me motion with his hands, and for a second all she saw was red. She turned back to Angella, eyes narrowed. “I’m gonna fucking obliterate him.” On either side of her, Bow and Glimmer shared a look before nodding in solidarity.

At this point, Angella knew she couldn’t do much to stop her. “Fine. But do it toward the end of the period so we can wrap your knuckles during the intermission.”

Well, by the time the end of the second period came around, the Horde had managed to score another ridiculously dirty goal on Scorpia, and Adora was more pissed than she’d been before. 

It came a few minutes after her own, when her line watched from the bench and one of their goons absolutely _leveled_ poor Perfuma while she was trying to pass over to Swifty and had stolen the puck. 

Now, they were within the last two minutes of the period. Adora, Bow, and Glimmer were on the ice for the period’s last shift, and Adora set up for her faceoff against the Horde center. 

“Aw, how’s your head feel, baby? Hope I didn’t hit you too hard earlier.” The man in front of her spoke with a tone so cocky and condescending it made her want to pull her teeth out -- actually, it made her want to pull _his_ teeth out, but that was neither here nor there. “How ‘bout you come over to my place after the game and take a look at _my_ head?” He ended the innuendo with a gross wink, and that was all the justification Adora needed for what she was about to do.

“Watch it, #23,” warned the linesman, who held the puck between them. 

Adora let a slow, threatening smile creep onto her face. _Here it comes._ She looked over to where Bow and Glimmer stood watching her on the outside of the faceoff circle and nodded once. Their eyes widened with sudden realization, and at Adora’s signal, they got in position to hold back their respective Horde players. 

As soon as the puck dropped, Adora’s gloves were off, thrown down to the ground quickly and without care. 

She grabbed a fistful of #23’s jersey and threw a lightning-fast hook to the side of his helmet. It clattered to the ground before he knew what was happening. He looked up at her, eyes wide and a little afraid, before dropping his own gloves and throwing a few weak punches so telegraphed Adora wondered if he’d ever been in a fight before. _Honestly,_ she thought, throwing his incoming fist to the side and cracking him in the face with the heel of her hand, _what a dumbass._

Adora dodged most of the punches easily -- until one lucky shot caught her hard in the jaw, and she doubled over. She wasn’t sure how, but she was bleeding again, and felt blood dribble down the side of her mouth. _Damn it,_ she thought, taking a heaving breath and bringing her fist back up. _These are our good jerseys._

Just as she’d guessed from his size and lack of common sense, her opponent was neither quick nor clever enough to capitalize on the gaping opportunity he’d created.

She, however, recovered quickly. In one smooth motion, Adora pulled the back of his jersey over his head, blocking his vision, and delivered three powerful strikes in quick succession to the head, the stomach, and the cup. 

He went down instantly.

She could hear the victorious cries of the surrounding crowd multiply, coupled with triumphant yells and jeers from her teammates both on the ice and the bench. Adora became aware that blood was dripping down her face, but ignored it in favor of waving to the now-deafening crowd with a grin.

Even as the ref skated over, half to reprimand her and half to check on the now-prone Horde goon, Adora felt power and pure, raw adrenaline flow into her. On her way to the box, she raised a victorious, bloody fist. The crowd went insane, and Adora took the opportunity to scan it again in hopes of finding Catra. 

And just like that, hidden away behind a row of what looked like rowdy drunk frat boys, there she was.

Catra was staring at her with wide eyes and an expression that made Adora blush. The way her eyes gleamed, Adora swore it looked like Catra was going to eat her alive. She felt her skin heat up at the sight.

Hearing the crowd chant _SHE-RA! SHE-RA! SHE-RA!_ in a deafening roar, Adora really couldn’t resist the slow, smug grin that crept onto her face. 

She stopped at the door to the penalty box, one foot still on the ice. Locking eyes with Catra in the stands, she brought the back of her hand up and slowly, deliberately, wiped the blood away from her mouth. 

(Even from that distance, Adora swore she could seeCatra’s eyes widening.)

A few seconds later, the second period was over, and as she made her way back to the locker room, she felt her furious fog of war begin to dissipate into startling clarity. 

Walking into the locker room, she was greeted with yells of congratulations and praise from her teammates. After fake-bowing and letting them roll in for a moment, Adora raised a hand to quiet them. As her team gathered around her, Adora’s smile faded into a look of pure determination. “Alright, that was a good period, but this game is still tied. We have 20 minutes to change that.” Murmurs and nods of agreement spurred her on. 

“But the Horde has fresher legs than we do. Their conditioning is better than ours right now. Nothing we can do about that. What we _can_ do is save our energy,” She said, putting her hands on her hips. “We need to play _smart_. No more risky, badly-aimed shots, no more scrambling in the defensive zone. From this moment on, we move strategically.” Adora pointed at Scorpia. “Our goalie is doing a hell of a job tonight. Keep her safe. Cover the player, not the puck. And most importantly,” She said, cracking a smile, “Give those bastards hell.”

The locker room erupted in hoots and hollers. As the rest of the room dispersed into a murmur of conversation, Glimmer came over holding an ice pack. “Hey, are you... feeling alright?”

Adora accepted it gratefully, putting it on her already-bruising knuckles. “Why, do you think I’m concussed?” She asked, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“No, it’s not that. I mean, you’re usually a little concussed.” Glimmer wrung her hands nervously in front of her. “I just… what happened? Earlier, I mean, when we were on the bench with my dad and Bow?”

 _Ah,_ Adora thought. _That_.

She blinked, then plastered on a fake smile. “Oh, that? Pfft. That was-- that was nothing--”

“Oh, we are _so_ talking about this later--”

“Okay, fine, it--” Adora felt her throat close up a little, and she looked up at the ceiling before closing her eyes. “It’s-- I saw my old coach.” 

She could see the moment Glimmer realized exactly what she meant. Her eyes widened, and she took Adora’s hand in her own. “Oh, _shit_. The one that--”

“Yeah,” Adora said shakily. “That one.” She blinked once, twice, three times in an effort to clear the tears she felt welling up. “Listen, Glimmer, I really appreciate the concern, but can we talk about this after the game? I just-- we have to win this one. _I_ need to win this one.”

Glimmer squeezed her hand. “Yeah, of course. Forget I mentioned it.” At Adora’s grateful smile, she changed the subject. “Can we talk about that fight, though? Because _holy shit_ , Adora, you _leveled_ him.”

Bow, who had been talking with Sea Hawk and Mermista, suddenly whipped his head towards them and jogged over. “Are we talking about the fight?” Adora groaned, covering her face in her hands, but her friends’ smiles were infectious. 

“Boarding you was bad enough, but then having the _audacity_ to hit on you in the faceoff circle?” Glimmer said, shaking her head solemnly. “He deserved every punch.”

Adora took her hand away from the ice, flexing it experimentally a few times. “Yeah,” She murmured. “He did.”

*** * ***

Catra’s eyes were still about as wide as dinner plates when the period ended, and she was getting very close to being officially sold on hockey. 

(Well, maybe she was just sold on one of the players. But when Adora looked like _that_ with blood dripping down her face, Catra found it hard to do anything but _want_.) 

Everything about the last few minutes of the period was seared into her brain: Adora throwing her gloves to the ground, how easy she made the fight look, the momentary panic in Catra’s ribcage as Adora finally _took_ a punch, and, to top it all off, the _eye contact._

She knew it was a little stereotypical to focus on the eye contact, of all things, but holy _shit_. There was so much tension in that look it would take an axe to break it. _And then Adora’s hand lifting to wipe away the blood…_ In a part of her brain that wasn’t currently occupied with searing that memory into her mind, she knew it _should_ have been gross, but there was something about it that really, _really_ wasn’t.

Catra spent the entire 20-minute intermission banishing intrusive, horny thoughts. She could indulge in those later, but for now, there were people around, and she knew she’d probably have to say something to the team while she waited for Scorpia after the game. On the ice, the zamboni finished its lap. Catra watched as, a few minutes later, the teams took to their benches again.

The first buzzer sounded, signaling the beginning of play, and for the first few minutes, she watched Adora sit in the penalty box, clearly antsy to get back on the ice. It was endearing, really: from Catra’s perspective, she could see Adora fiddling with her gloves, tying and re-tying her laces, and messing with her helmet, all while watching the game with a worried expression.

Catra tore her eyes away from Adora and took a look out onto the ice. The Horde was _everywhere_ , it seemed. There had been 40 minutes of play already, but the Horde didn’t show any signs of stopping. Netossa and Spinnerella, who Catra remembered vaguely from earlier, barely budged from their team’s defensive zone, covering Scorpia in case of attack. 

Speaking of attack, there came the Horde. Two of the players came speeding down the ice, flanked by Frosta, Perfuma, and Swift Wind. Catra saw a third player, their linemate, begin to follow them up, moving the puck out of their end and trying to find an open player. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Frosta move into position. The crowd erupted in crowing cheers as she slammed her shoulder into him, knocking him onto the ice hard and stealing the puck away.

Frosta began to skate up the side, looking for an opening, and found it in Swift Wind, who ducked his way around one of the defensemen. He set up in one corner of the offensive zone, playing keep-away with the defenders, and Catra realized with a start what was happening as he sent the puck back to Frosta, who passed it to Perfuma in a second. Perfuma, after luring the other players in, sent it over to Spinnerella at the point. 

Realization dawned on her. _They’re tiring them out._

There was movement from the penalty box, and she watched as Adora finally made her way back to the bench, greeted with warm welcomes by Bow and Glimmer. 

In the offensive zone, the Rebellion’s tic-tac-toe passing was doing its job in infuriating the Horde -- until Perfuma was blindsided by a player about six inches taller than her, getting knocked against the boards hard. Frosta was there in an instant helping her up. Catra could see the rage in her eyes even from 150 feet away. 

Just like that, the Horde had the puck. Their conditioning showed itself here as Netossa and Spinnerella tried to keep up, and in an instant, Scorpia was overwhelmed by a 3-on-2 rush. No one could blame her for what happened next. 

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

The crowd groaned, watching the scoreboard change from a tie to a one-goal lead, and booed the other team. Catra tried to tamp down the sudden nervousness welling up in her chest, and looked to the clock. 10 minutes to go. They had time. They could do this.

Right?

*** * ***

Play was stopped with less than a minute to go, and Adora was trying not to panic. When the third goal horn rang, she felt it like a punch to the gut. She and her teammates had fought tooth and nail on every shift to even it up, but the Horde had turned on the jets, and she saw more bruises than smiles on their faces. She stared at the ceiling, as if the rafters would give her the answer she was looking for.

Next to her, as if he could sense what she was feeling, Bow put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, Adora. Even if we lose this one, it’s not your--”

“We are _not_ going to lose, alright?” There was a steely glint in her eye. “We’re not.”

Bow leaned back, shooting a glance behind her to Glimmer. She met it with the same cautious worry, nodding. “What’s our strategy?”

Adora let out a quick breath. “The one we talked about earlier. I’ll draw attention away from you guys, Glimmer will open up a passing lane, and Bow will fire one in.”

Glimmer was doing that thing with her face again. Concern was practically dripping from the crease in her brow. “Adora, are you sure that’s a good idea? You’ve taken a lot of hits today already, and with your _knee_ , I don’t know if--”

“I’ll be fine,” Adora said firmly, looking anywhere but Bow and Glimmer. “They’ll have it out for me after that fight, which means they _won’t_ be looking for you.” She closed her eyes. “It’s the only way we get a goal.”

Bow sighed and muttered, “We’re really going to have to work on this self-sacrificing thing you have going on.”

From the gate, Angella signaled to them, holding up ten fingers. _10 seconds._ Giving her a nod, Adora began to stand. “As long as it’s after the game, that’s fine by me.”

Taking to the ice again as Frosta, Perfuma, and Swift Wind came off, Netossa passed the puck over to Glimmer in their zone. Across the ice, Adora saw the five Horde players waiting for them. It made her blood boil. Turning to Glimmer, she nodded. 

The puck met her stick in motion, and she began to take it up the ice, hearing the sounds of her teammates behind her. 

Moments like these, where the noise of the crowd faded away to a dull roar and all she could think about was the puck on her stick and her friends surrounding her, were the reason Adora had fallen in love with the game in the first place. She let her focus sharpen, eyes clocking in quick order the three goons coming toward her, and drew them in further as she danced around them. Sure enough, they were so focused on her they barely saw Glimmer coming. 

Just before the check hit, Adora sent the puck through the legs of the player in front of her, watching in slow motion as Glimmer took it. Moving at lightning speed from forehand to backhand to forehand again, she faked out the goalie before sending the puck over to Bow, who sealed the deal with a perfectly-placed wrist shot. 

Adora heard the sound of the goal horn right before the buzzer as if from a great distance, covered by the roar of the crowd. 

Realistically, she knew the check happened in the span of about three seconds, but she felt it in slow motion. As the shaft of the Horde player’s stick met her head, slamming it into the boards, she realized dimly that there was a stick blade hooking behind her knee. It pulled hard, and she felt an injury -- _that_ injury -- suddenly reignite with a dull, burning pain as her leg gave out under her. She fell to the ice. 

Even through the pain of her knee and the ringing in her ears, she heard the goal horn, and all she could feel was relief. 

At some point, she became aware of fighting, and opened her eyes to see Bow and Glimmer shoving the Horde players still towering above her angrily. 

Adora felt hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her up and supporting her weight, and looked over to see Swift Wind. Even through the black spots in her vision, Adora could see how worried he was. “Swifty? I thought you were on the bench, why--”

Refocusing her eyes, she looked up to see the clock read 00:00, and the intermission timer was running. Bow and Glimmer were now engaged in what looked like furious conversation with the refs. She could see how angry they looked. Glimmer’s hands were flying around, trembling with anger as she pointed to the Horde players. 

Adora frowned, feeling the ringing in her ears lessen. She patted Swift Wind on the chest, preparing to skate over to figure out what was happening. “Thanks, Swifty, but I got it, really--”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but sure enough, her leg gave out under her, and if it hadn’t been for Swift Wind’s firm grasp on her side and her arm slung around his shoulder, she would have hit the ice again. “Jesus, Adora, take it easy. Let me help.” 

Now that her head was beginning to clear, Adora was finally aware of the throbbing pain in her knee. She took in a deep, shaky breath, trying not to let her voice waver. “Can you help me over to Bow and Glimmer?”

It was awkward, scooting along the ice, but they managed. By the time they got over, Bow’s hands were crossed over his chest, and he was shaking with rage. As soon as he and Glimmer saw Adora, tension seemed to drain from their faces, and Swift Wind helped to shift her weight from his shoulders to theirs. Bow, clearly in the middle of a rant, said, “Now, _as I was saying_ \--”

Leaning on them for stability, Adora interrupted, “The puck went in before the buzzer, right?” 

The ref looked at her warily. “Right.”

“So we’re going to overtime.”

Glimmer realized what she was doing and narrowed her eyes. “Adora, they deserve _suspensions_ for that hit--”

“We can deal with it after the game,” Adora said, turning between them. “Listen, you guys are my best friends, and the only people I’d trust to handle this--”

“So _trust us_ \--”

“--But we have a game to win.” She finished resolutely. “Intermission won’t be long. After that, I’m leaving it all up to you two.”

Glimmer looked at Bow. Bow looked at Glimmer, then Adora. “You promise?”

Relieved, Adora nodded. “I promise.” 

The ref nodded, checking his watch. All he said before leaving was “Two minutes until 3-on-3.”

As the three of them hobbled -- well, helped Adora hobble -- back to the bench, Angella and Micah were there waiting. “Come on,” Angella said gently. “The doctor is in the locker room. We’ll take a look at your knee.”

“No,” Adora said quietly. “Not yet. I’ll sit on the bench, I just--” She paused, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She looked over at the Horde bench, and saw Shadow Weaver in conversation with one of the coaches. Turning back to Angella with renewed fire, she said, “I need to see the game finished.” 

Angella looked uneasy, but she acquiesced with a gentle “alright” and left Adora on the bench with Bow and Glimmer. 

Someone -- Glimmer, she realized -- put a warm hand behind her shoulder, rubbing gentle circles on her back. “You can’t do this forever, Adora.”

Swallowing the emotions she felt rising up, Adora closed her eyes. “I know.”

*** * ***

Like the rest of the home crowd, Catra had leapt to her feet and shouted triumphantly when she heard the goal horn sound right at the buzzer. _Unlike_ the rest of the home crowd, she’d felt her stomach turn over when she saw the fucked-up revenge check Adora took. 

Trying to scramble through frat boys and avoid getting beer spilled on her, all she could make out was Bow and Glimmer yelling at the opposing team and the sudden, gut-wrenching sight of Adora’s legs giving out under her.

At the sight of it, Catra felt her heart skip a beat.

It was ridiculous, really. She’d known Adora for less than 24 hours, and here she was all bent out of shape about what happened to her. When had she started caring about other people and their wellbeing?

Scorpia’s face flashed in her mind, alongside their conversation from the summer. Catra frowned out of reflex. Ever since she transferred to Bright Moon from the Fright Zone after freshman year, she’d been steadily losing her hard edge. It wasn’t gone, of course — she found that years of therapy could do a lot, but not that. At least now, at the ripe old age of 20 she was finally outside the thrall of teenage melodrama. 

(Catching a glimpse of Adora on the bench, she saw Bow patting her on the back. She tried to ignore the momentary squeeze in her chest when she saw a flash of pain across Adora’s face. Teenage melodrama was out, but Catra had always been prone to pining.)

She tried to focus on the game. The score was tied, but the last period was over. Even though Adora had seemingly paid the price for the goal, they’d done it. Catra wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next. Did they tie? Did they flip a coin? Did they--

“Oh, shiiiiit! Bro, they’re going into OT!” One of the more coherent frat bros in front of her was smacking his buddy in the shoulder. “This’ll be good.”

 _OT, what-- oh. Overtime_. That answered her question. Sure enough, a few minutes later, players skated out onto the ice again. There were only three on each team (not counting the goalies), which Catra assumed was done on purpose. Bow and Glimmer were on the ice, accompanied by Mermista. 

Catra snuck another look at the bench to see Adora watching intently. 

Bow skated up, preparing to take the faceoff, and just like that, the game resumed. Bow won the draw, sending it over to Glimmer. As the Horde got in position, Glimmer wasted no time zooming her way up the ice. She fired a shot a second too late, and the goalie grabbed it easily before passing it to a nearby Horde player. 

The Horde had it in their own zone, looming tall as they passed the puck to each other. The center passed to the wing, and in a few seconds they were coming up the ice as a unit. 

Once they made it to the Rebellion zone, the Horde player fired a missile of a shot at Scorpia. 

Catra held her breath for an instant, watching the scene in slow motion. Scorpia lifted her stick -- and batted the puck out of the sky.

The crowd let out an audible sigh of relief, but as a player from the Horde picked up the rebound, moving from side to side behind the net slowly, Catra knew it wasn’t over yet. 

The player behind the net -- #2, she noted -- sent a sudden, barely visible pass over to his teammate -- #1 -- on the wing. #1 took it, narrowly dodging Bow’s attempt to lift his stick, and skated almost faster than Catra could register to the front of the goal. Without a second’s hesitation, he pulled it almost effortlessly to one side of Scorpia, faking a shot, before making a lightning-fast move to the backhand and--

\--right into the back of the net.

 _Shit._

Catra let out a huff, feeling rage and disappointment swirl around inside her. Dimly, she wondered if they stocked up on ice cream. Whenever Scorpia had a bad day, she tended to tear through entire pints of the stuff, usually while watching bad TV. 

The crowd grumbled, shuffling out of the arena, but Catra stayed behind. 

She watched as the team shook hands, tapped their respective goalies, and, eventually, went back to their locker rooms. 

Catra, increasingly alone, found herself presented with two options. _One,_ she thought, _I go back to the room and pretend like this night didn’t happen. Two…_ She stole a look at the now-empty bench. Unbidden, the image of Adora collapsing to the ice popped into her mind. After something like that, Catra was almost _obligated_ to go say something. Doing this, she’d set aside their day-long rivalry for a moment of genuine concern. She was being the bigger man, really. It was very mature of her.

That settled it. 

Taking a deep breath, she gathered her various personal items -- including the wrappers of at least four packets of M&Ms -- and walked leisurely down the bleachers. She wasn’t totally sure of the etiquette in this situation. Should she go in the locker room or wait in the lobby? Was she even _allowed_ to go in the locker room?

Pausing a moment on the steps, she pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to Scorpia. 

_catra: where do i go to come see you guys ? am i allowed in the locker room_

_catra: also i checked & we have ice cream in the freezer_

No response yet. Scorpia was probably getting re-dressed. Catra shrugged, and resolved to hunt around for a trash can. Walking back through the entryway, she saw a small trail of empty cups and candy wrappers leading her somewhere in the distance. _Bingo_.

Two minutes later, after she’d thrown her trash away and scrolled through her Twitter feed for a few minutes, her phone buzzed with a text from Scorpia. 

_Scorpia!!!!: Aw, thanks for checking in. Let me ask Adora about the locker room._

A few seconds later, another text came in.

_Scorpia!!!!: Couldn’t find Adora, but I asked Glimmer -- she says yes. See you in a few!_

Even through text after a harrowing first game, Scorpia had that same unfailing cheery attitude. When they’d first met, while Catra was hunting for an on-campus apartment after her transfer went through, she found it annoying. Now, a year and a half later, she saw it for what it was: pure, unregulated kindness. 

(She wouldn’t say it unless someone held a knife to her throat, but she was endlessly grateful for it.)

It didn’t occur to Catra until she was standing outside to the locker room and moving to open the door that she realized the vibe she was about to enter. _Thrilling game against your rival that ends in a tragic overtime loss and your captain almost getting concussed on the ice? Probably not a good time,_ she thought, hesitating. Her hand hovered in the air for a moment. 

She shrugged. _Ah, fuck it._

Opening the door, Catra was greeted with a wave of steam and the smell of sweat mixed with-- what was that, cleaning solution? She wrinkled her nose almost subconsciously, and made her way into the locker room proper. She could hear voices coming from somewhere ahead of her, and followed them until she reached a large rectangular room. On the floor, Catra saw stray pieces of gear and what looked like rolls of tape strewn haphazardly. In the very center was Bright Moon’s crescent moon logo. 

More importantly, she saw the team gathered around the room. She clocked Scorpia instantly, giving her a little nod while she leaned in the doorway. The team had changed by now, and were sitting in street clothes around the room, listening intently to a tall man with a braided beard speak. “--it’s not the ending we wanted, but we were lucky to come out with a point. Next time we face them, we have to be better conditioned. Monday’s practice is a bag skate, _and_ ,” He said, pausing at the sudden groans and boos the team erupted with, “It’s mandatory.” 

“Guys, come on,” Said Glimmer, piping up from the corner. “You saw that team. They played a 65-minute game and their legs were fresh for all of it. I hate bag skates too, but Coach is right. We need to be strong if we’re ever going to make it to the last round of playoffs.” 

The bearded man -- Coach, apparently -- nodded. “Very true. Alright, it’s been a long night, guys. Get out of here.” 

Catra padded over to Scorpia while the room dispersed. “Hey. You, uh… you did well tonight.”

Scorpia let out a sigh. “Yeah, well, it’s only my first game. I wasn’t expecting to be, y’know, _perfect_. By the time we play the Horde again, they won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“That’s the spirit,” Catra said, letting a smile creep onto her face. She waved to Bow and Glimmer as they walked out. Bow waved back cheerfully. Glimmer just looked her up and down with a raised eyebrow. _Well, you can’t win ‘em all._

Catra coughed. “Hey, uh… are you guys doing alright? I mean, it wasn’t a great way to end a game, and with Adora getting all fucked up...” She trailed off, avoiding eye contact.

In the back of the room, Micah slowed his filing at the question.

“Oh, man. That was a real bad hit she took out there, huh?” Scorpia shook her head ruefully. “It’s a shame, really. She had _just_ recovered from that _injury_ , too--”

Micah cleared his throat in the back of the room, and Catra and Scorpia both turned to look over. “Sorry, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Micah. I’m one of our coaches. And you are..?” He trailed off, staring Catra dead in the eyes. 

“Uh, Catra,” She said, feeling a little uneasy. “Great place you have here.”

“She’s my roommate,” Scorpia supplied.

Micah nodded. “I see. Catra, can I ask you a question?”

 _Oh no._ “Um. Sure. I don’t see why not.” 

“What was the Horde’s biggest weakness tonight?” He asked the question plainly, but Catra knew there was a trap there somewhere. 

_Focus up. Try and remember._ She racked her brain for a few seconds, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t know--”

“ _Exactly_. So don’t think you can come in here and just--”

“--I mean, their puck-handling was actually pretty sloppy, and it looked like they were focusing too much on pure speed and not enough on technique. I feel like if you caught them in the middle of a rush or, like, making a pass, you’d be able to take the puck without a lot of issue. Their backwards skating left a _lot_ to be desired even though it was fast, and they only passed the puck to, like, one person, so…” Catra tapped her chin. “I’d say their weaknesses are technique and teamwork, which you guys have plenty of. You just lack the speed and conditioning to keep up for long stretches.” Doing that always felt _so_ satisfying. People always seemed to forget how quickly she put things together. 

Micah stood in stunned silence. Catra’s satisfaction wavered, now worried that she’d fucked up on an astronomical level. It was always a risky move, interrupting an authority figure. Say the right thing, and you get a seat at the table. Say the wrong thing, they slam the chair down on you.

Almost a full minute passed of complete silence before a massive, almost maniacal grin spread across Micah’s face. “Come to the bag skate on Monday.”

“Wh-what?” 

“Come to the bag skate.”

Okay, nowCatra was just confused. “I don’t-- what’s a bag skate? I’m not a hockey player, dude, I’m just--”

“Hockey player or not, if you can tell my players that and get them to _listen_ , this team wins a national championship.” Micah still had that grin on his face, and Catra was starting to get a little scared. “That was some ridiculously insightful observation, Catra. You put _all_ our opponents’ weaknesses together that fast, you got yourself a job.” 

“Wait, like-- a _job_ job? Do I get paid?” 

Micah shrugged. “Not sure yet. But I’ll put in a good word.” Stepping back a bit, he held up a hand. “Listen, you don’t have to decide right this second. Come to practice on Monday and let me know.” 

Not knowing what else to do, Catra nodded dumbly. “Yeah. Alright. Monday,” She said, hearing the words echo distantly. After Micah left the room, she turned to Scorpia with a look of bewilderment. 

“Hey, what the fuck just happened?”

A grin spread slowly across Scorpia’s face, and as she stood up, she put a hand on Catra’s shoulder. “Don’t look now, but you might be a hockey player.”

“Oh, God, don’t even _joke_ about that,” Catra groaned. “I’m hockey player-adjacent at worst.”

Scorpia mock-frowned. “Aww, come on. We’re not all bad!”

“Nah,” Catra said, thinking suddenly of bloody knuckles and twinkling gray eyes. “I guess you’re not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 'dropped the gloves': instigating/participating in a fight by throwing your gloves to the ground.  
> \- breakaway: one player taking the puck and breaking away from the rest of the team with the intent to score 1-on-1 with the goalie.  
> \- blueline: the thick blue lines that mark the offensive zones at the two ends of the ice. normally where the defenders set up while the forwards move around the zone to open up for passing.  
> \- boards: the wooden boards and glass panels that surround the rink.  
> \- power play: after a penalty, one team has 5 players while the other has a player in the box, and only has 4 on the ice. also called the 'man advantage'.  
> \- penalty kill: the other side of the power play. the shorthanded team has to 'kill off' the increased scoring chance their opponents have.  
> \- cross-checking: an illegal check in which one player holds the shaft of their stick with both hands to push/hit another.  
> \- bag skate: a conditioning practice without sticks or pucks. similar to sprints, but on the ice and in full gear.


	3. bag skate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora studies the tape. Catra forms a strategy. The team has a bonding night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! i know it's been a few days since the last chapter was posted, but i wanted to make sure i did this one right and my personal life has been busy lately. there's not a ton of actual hockey action -- or any, for that matter -- but i promise the team will hit the ice again very soon! in this one, there's a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff going on (some more of adora and catra's backstories, more insight into the team dynamic), but i totally get if that's not everyone's bag. 
> 
> a quick note/trigger warning: this chapter discusses things that, while in no way graphic, feature tendencies of self-harm. the segment is brief, and mainly focuses on the internal monologue of the character, btu i encourage you to skip over it if it's a trigger for you. 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are appreciated! love you guys

“Well, it could’ve been worse,” Adora said lightly. Bow and Glimmer were on either side of her, both there to support her if needed while she made her way on the crutches the doctor had given her the night before. 

After the game last night, the three of them had been up all night figuring out their strategy for their meeting with the referees the next morning. Unfortunately, they’d never been all that _good_ at strategy, and suffice it to say that the refs hadn’t taken kindly to being yelled at by three 20-year-olds. The group of Horde players -- because it _was_ a group, Bow had argued, as there was the one that cross-checked her and the one that pulled her knee and at least another besides them -- had only received a one-game suspension. 

Still stewing with rage, Glimmer snapped, “It could’ve been _better_. Those--those _shitheads_ barely got a slap on the wrist for what they did to you. It’s not right.”

Bow nodded, adjusting the strap of his backpack. “Yeah, I’m with Glimmer. They got off _way_ too easily.”

Adora sighed. “Yeah, I know.” They were quiet for a stretch, with the only noises coming from their footsteps and an occasional grunt of effort from Adora.

When they made it back to the lobby, Bow paused at the doors to the outside. “Hey, Adora?” He asked, hesitation clear in his voice. “How long did the doctor say you’ll be out for?” 

Adora stiffened, clenching her jaw minutely. She’d prefer not to talk about this, but she knew it was going to come up eventually. “ _Well_ ,” She said with a sigh, “According to Angella, it’ll be at least a week, probably two, before my knee will be in stable enough condition to get back on the ice--”

“Two _weeks_?” Glimmer interrupted, eyes disbelieving. “Playoffs start in five days, Adora!”

“Yep,” Adora said, popping the _p_. “I’ve always been a fast healer, though,” She said with a weak smile. “Besides, even if I’m not back for the game on Friday, you guys will be more than capable of taking out the Salineas team without me on the ice.” The words, though genuine, left her feeling hollow. 

Here’s the thing. 

Adora trusted, loved, and respected her friends. She knew they were excellent hockey players, and that she and the team wouldn’t be anywhere without them. The three of them -- not just her, not just Bow, not just Glimmer, but the product of their teamwork -- were what made the Rebellion so good. Not just on the ice, either.

When Adora had first joined the team, all the way back in freshman year, it had been fractured. The players were all supremely talented, of course, but there was nothing to unify them. Adora had clicked with Bow and Glimmer instantly, and the three of them had hatched a plan after seeing how poorly the team was doing. 

After weeks of gentle encouragement and invitations to outside events, they’d finally been able to build real, legitimate relationships with their teammates. In doing so, they inadverdently created a family.

Mermista, as it turned out, was an excellent DJ, and provided the pregame playlist, postgame playlist, and speaker for every game. Perfuma got them all hooked on this one horribly overpriced (but delicious) juice place on the edge of campus and always knew where to get the best weed. Sea Hawk took them out to karaoke nights, Scorpia brought homemade food to every event, Netossa and Spinnerella had weekly Sunday dinners in their apartment, Frosta set up a biweekly Wii boxing tournament -- the list went on and on. 

As their team relationship got better, their playing improved. They started winning more games than not. They started putting more effort into practice. They made it to the championship playoffs for the first time in 15 years, and had returned every year since.

So, yeah. Adora trusted her team to clinch the first few games of playoffs. At the same time, she knew that it would kill her not to be there with them. 

Glimmer looked worried, and she was doing a bad job of hiding it. “Are you sure?” She asked gently, and put a hand on Adora’s shoulder.

“Of course.” Adora smiled despite herself, giving Glimmer and Bow a reassuring nod. “Plus, Salineas may have a D1 team, but they’re a beachschool. I doubt they’ve ever even _seen_ real ice.”

That got a chuckle, and Adora saw the tension in Glimmer’s face ease. “Very true. Hey, can we run by the grocery store? Scorpia asked me if we could pick up some stuff for tonight.” 

Bow nodded without hesitation, and then all eyes were on Adora. “You guys go,” She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll meet you back at the apartment.”

Adora was watching Glimmer and Bow walk in the opposite direction when she felt her phone buzz. She frowned. _That’s weird_ , she thought. _The only people who text me are those two_. 

Taking her phone out, she saw an unread message from Micah. That was particularly odd. He’d never really gotten the appeal of texting, and usually just called when he needed to talk to someone. 

_Micah: Adora! BIG news. I meant to tell you last night, but you were busy: I think we found someone to help us beat the Horde! -- Coach_

The line in her forehead deepened as she typed a one-handed response back to him. 

_Adora: Oh wow okay! Is she a new player? I don’t think we’re allowed to bring new ppl on this late in the season_

_Micah: Negative, ghostrider. I’m hoping she’ll help coach conditioning and skating drills. She’s coming to bag skate tomorrow. Come by and meet her! -- Coach_

For obvious reasons, Adora hadn’t really planned on paying attention to the bag skate. She would go, of course -- after all, it was mandatory -- but since the most she’d be able to do would be sitting on the bench and wistfully staring at the ice, she had thought about bringing along some homework to finish or some music to listen to. But a new coach, especially one Adora hadn’t met before… well, that was interesting. She started making her way back to the apartment, letting her mind wander. 

Speaking of interesting things, she wished she’d gotten to talk to Catra after the game (especially after their charged moment after the fight), but the _second_ the game was over, Angella had rushed her into a spare room for what she swore would be a quick examination of her leg. By the time she was done with it, it was almost midnight. Only Bow and Glimmer were still there, and even they freely admitted they’d already been home to set some things up for her.

 _Wait a second_ , Adora remembered, stopping suddenly. _Scorpia._

She turned to where she could still see Bow and Glimmer’s retreating figures. A few things occurred to her in the span of a second. 

One, Bow and Glimmer definitely wouldn’t be able to hear her if she yelled, but she could easily catch up to or follow them. Two, if Catra didn’t know she was coming, she’d _finally_ have the upper hand in their interactions.

Her feelings toward Catra were… confusing. Part of her was fairly committed to the more competitive side of their relationship, and she still fully intended on beating Catra in their now-postponed race when they were able to get around to it. The other, larger part was ridiculously attracted to her. She was hot, obviously, and the way she looked at Adora had kept her awake for most of the last night, but every so often Adora caught little glimpses of a softer, caring side to her, and that was even more compelling. 

She remembered Catra helping her up on the bleachers, the way she’d stayed for the entire game and then some even though she _easily_ could have left at any moment, and how she looked when she said that Scorpia was a good friend to her. _Hidden depths,_ she thought. 

Resolutely, Adora made her way across the campus, following Bow and Glimmer as best she could. After all, they had a lot to catch up on.

*** * ***

After the events of the previous night, Catra had decided that since hockey seemed to be, inexplicably, part of her life now, she needed a quick break. Given the time frame, it wouldn’t be a long one, obviously, but she’d take what she could get. 

Today, that meant sleeping in until half past ten and eating a nutritious breakfast of black coffee and a slice of pie Scorpia had made a few days prior. Her roommate was always gone on Sunday nights -- yet another hockey thing, if she remembered correctly -- and tended to work out during the day. Normally, those two facts gave Catra an entire day of precious, well-earned alone time. 

So this morning, when she left her room in a shirt three sizes too big (stolen from Scorpia), no bra, and a pair of neon pink booty shorts, she wasn’t expecting to be _seen_. 

She especially wasn’t expecting to be seen by _hockey players_. 

And yet, there were Bow and Glimmer, munching on some of the cookies Scorpia had made a few days back while leaning against her kitchen counters. 

Up until the moment she entered the room, the three of them were engrossed in conversation with Scorpia. Once they noticed her, Glimmer cut off abruptly, putting a hand over her mouth to badly hide a smile, and the room was suddenly filled with pin-drop silence. 

Bow broke the silence, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Um. Nice pants, Catra.” He looked at her with barely-restrained laughter spilling from his eyes, and she felt the overwhelming desire to slam her head against the nearest wall. 

Instead, she opted for a glare and a swift recovery. She found that in unavoidable, deeply awkward moments like these, it was best to just roll with it. “Thanks,” She said, her voice rough with disuse. “Can I ask what you two are doing in my kitchen?”

“Oh, that one’s on me,” Scorpia said apologetically. “I asked Glimmer if she’d have time to drop by the grocery store for a few supplies. I wasn’t sure you’d be up.”

“Okay,” Catra said, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “So then why is Bow here?”

More silence.

Bow spoke up, voice halting in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“You know what? Forget I asked.” Catra made her way over to the coffee maker in the corner, and saw a half-full pot. She guessed that Scorpia had made it a few hours ago, because it was lukewarm by now. She shrugged, pouring it into her mug and taking a long, satisfied sip. 

Behind her, Scorpia re-engaged the two of them in conversation, and Catra let their voices fade into the background while she drank her first, blessed cup of coffee. 

She kept half an ear on the conversation, content to not be spoken to, until:

“Oh, also, Adora’s probably going to be out for a couple weeks. You know, ‘cause of her knee and all,” Bow lamented. Her back was facing them, but Catra slowed her movements, listening closely. “But she’s still coming to practice--” 

“Which is a _terrible_ idea,” Glimmer interrupted, “Because we both know it’ll just make her sad to see us out there while she can’t be.”

“Makes sense,” Catra said, still facing away from them. “But-- and I’m only saying this because it’s too early for me to be a dick -- I think you guys can manage for a few days without her.”

Realization dawned on Scorpia. “Bell curve,” She added, to Bow and Glimmer’s extreme confusion.

Glimmer turned towards Catra slowly, a small frown on her face. “What makes you say that?”

Finally turning around, Catra sipped her second cup of coffee leisurely. “I mean, I don’t know much about hockey, but you played strong last night. Sounds like not everyone could take the Horde the way you did, even if they _were_ a step ahead of you the whole time.”

“And this is you _not_ being a dick?” Glimmer accused, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“Easy, Sparkles,” Catra said, putting a flippant hand up in front of her. “Just an observation.” She took another sip of coffee before setting down on the counter. “Hey, I-I meant to ask last night. Is she doing alright?”

“Is who doing alright?” A voice -- a _familiar_ voice -- asked from the entryway. The four of them turned so fast it was almost comical. 

Catra felt a smile creep onto her face. “Hey, Adora.”

She was answered with a little wave, followed by the _least_ subtle once-over she’d ever gotten. “Hi, Catra,” Adora said, swallowing thickly. “I like your pants.”

“So does everyone else, apparently,” Catra muttered, letting Bow take over the conversation. She picked up her coffee again, looking Adora up and down. 

Bow’s face lit up. “Oh, hi! I thought you were going back to the apartment.” 

Adora shrugged. “I was, but I thought I’d stop by and say hi,” She finished lamely, eyes flicking over to where Catra stood. “We never got to talk after the game.”

“You looked like you had more important stuff going on,” Catra said, looking pointedly at the crutches Adora was leaning on. “It was fun to watch, though. Especially that fight.” She raised an eyebrow, lips quirking to one side. Adora’s jaw pulsed as her smile shifted into something less friendly and _significantly_ less family-friendly. 

Glimmer cleared her throat loudly, breaking the tension between them. “Well! This has been fun, but we really should get going.”

She elbowed Bow, who quickly piped up. “Yes! We have that, er-- thing! Right now!” 

Adora blinked a few times, a blush creeping onto her face as she cleared her throat, flashing Scorpia a smile as she moved back out the door. “Right. Well, good seeing you guys. And Scorpia, you did really well last night,” She said with complete sincerity. “Seriously. That stick save is gonna be in a highlight reel someday.”

Scorpia blushed. “Thanks, Captain.”

“Anytime,” Adora said, eyes flashing towards Catra again. “And, uh, Catra, I’ll. Um.” She paused for a moment, mouth opening and closing wordlessly a few times. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You will,” Catra grinned, hearing the door close behind her.

*** * ***

Glimmer had the decency to wait until they were in the elevator before she cornered Adora. “Okay, _what_ was that?”

Adora blinked, feeling sweat begin to bead on her forehead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, really?” Glimmer asked, eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. “So you _didn’t_ just shamelessly give Catra bedroom eyes in the middle of her own kitchen?”

 _Shit. They noticed._ She swallowed. “Um. Not on purpose?” As Glimmer’s eyes narrowed, she continued hastily. “Seriously! She’s just so…” Adora trailed off, grasping for words she didn’t have. 

“...Hot?” Bow questioned, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk.

“Okay, well. Yes. Obviously. But it’s _more_ than that, she--” Adora cut off, thinking for a second. “It’s like she can see into my head, like-like she always knows exactly what I’m thinking and why and like she’s already a step ahead of me.”

Glimmer’s eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline. “And that’s… a good thing?”

“I’m not sure,” Adora answered. “And, honestly, even though all of that’s totally true, I can’t shake this feeling that there’s more to her under that-that _infuriating,_ mean, sexy exterior she has.” She put her head in her hands, groaning. “It’s _so_ annoying. I mean, we had our first conversation _yesterday_ and I can’t get her off my mind.” Her head shot up suddenly, eyes wide. “Oh my God, do you think she noticed the way I was looking at her?”

Chuckling, Bow put an arm around her shoulders. “Oh, you beautiful, dumb lesbian. She _definitely_ noticed it.” 

“Okay, listen, Adora,” Glimmer said, pointing an accusatory finger. “This team is going _all the way_ this year. What do we always say during playoffs?”

“No distractions,” Adora grumbled. 

Glimmer nodded. “No distractions.” The tough exterior she had put on cracked as she looked at Adora, who was now staring somewhere at her shoes. Her face shone with remorse. “I don’t mean to shut you down, or anything, Adora. I just--”

“No, I get it,” Adora said, looking away with a nod. “The team comes first.”

The walk back to their apartment, only a block or two away from the one they’d just been in, was short. Adora seemed lost in thought the whole time, always a second late to answer a question and just a little morequiet than normal. 

As the three of them made it back to their front door, their phones buzzed at the same time. Glimmer frowned, taking hers out. “Oh, shit,” She said, squinting at the message and typing a lightning-fast response. “It’s the group chat. Netossa and Spinnerella say no dinner tonight because, and I quote, _‘it’s our anniversary and nobody is allowed in the apartment tonight._ ’” Glimmer wrinkled her nose. “Gross.” 

“Wow,” Bow said, unlocking the door. “Good for them.”

Glimmer gave him a look. “Spinnerella says they’re moving it to tomorrow night instead.”

Once inside, Bow shut the door behind them before helping Adora carefully avoid the pile of shoes sprawled in the entryway. “Alright, so we figure something else out. Takeout and a movie?”

“Sounds good to me,” Glimmer shrugged. “Adora?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Adora said, nodding. “I’m gonna try and get some homework done, alright? I’ll be in my room.”

Glimmer gave her a thumbs up before returning back to the group chat, and Bow plopped down on the couch with a wave. “Sounds good. Let me know if you want to play Chel later, yeah?”

As soon as the door to her room closed, Adora felt like she could think again. Her head had been spinning all day -- first about the game, then about Catra, then about her knee, then Catra again -- but her room had a calming effect on her.

Walking over to her desk, she sat down carefully, trying not to bang her knee on the drawers, and opened up her computer where it sat, dormant, in front of her. Plugging in a pair of headphones, she began to type in an all-too-familiar Google search, clicking on the video that came up. 

As per usual, she fast-forwarded the footage until she reached the start at the beginning of the second period, watching the first few minutes without issue. It was always a different experience hearing the commentator’s voice sound nonstop over the game. _There’s #18 with the puck, coming in hot from her own zone; beautiful feed over to #7 on the wing; oh, and a ROCKET of a pass back to #18 right in the slot, she shoots, SHE SCORES! WOW! What a goal for the Rebellion!_

Adora smiled despite herself, despite the knowledge of what was coming. Part of her knew doing this wasn’t healthy. The other, louder part of her couldn’t bring herself to stop. 

The second period continued, and she watched as the clock ticked down. _Nice pass from his defender, and #14 has the puck, he spins around the defenseman, passes that puck across the zone to #18-- OUCH! Oh, that was a dirty hit by the Horde. There’s the whistle. Gotta be a penalty on that one. Jeez. Looks like the play is under review. Let’s go to the replay. Hell, I’m not even sure what happened on that one._

Sure enough, the instant replay started, just like it always did, with Adora making her way up the right side of the ice, eyes firmly fixed on Bow across the zone and not on the Horde player charging towards her. Right before the collision, he brought his skate up, sending the blade directly into the side of her knee as he slammed her against the boards. The hit, as it turned out, had torn one of the ligaments in her knee, and had singlehandedly knocked her -- and, as it turned out, the Rebellion -- from the playoffs entirely.

Adora felt her knee twinge just watching it. 

This was a routine she’d done many, many times. It started, of course, after that game had ended, and she was in the hospital after surgery. She started watching it every time she lost a game to the Horde, then every time she lost a game, period. 

Adora knew, rationally, that it was indicative of a larger issue. It’s the reason she hadn’t told anyone about it. She told herself it was because it wasn’t a real problem, that there were other people going through much, much worse things. 

(That wasn’t the real reason, though. No: the truth of it was that Adora couldn’t stand to see the pity on her teammates’ faces. More than anything, she didn’t want Bow and Glimmer to find out, especially not after the way they’d reacted when they learned about what had happened on her last team. It’s not like the rest of the team would be much better -- half of them wouldn’t understand, and the rest would understand _too_ well. If Perfuma found out, she’d give her that soft look, the one that always made Adora feel like her thoughts and emotions were laid bare for all to see, and carefully give her the names of a few therapists.)

She clenched and unclenched her fists, staring at the paused image of her lying on the ground until she felt something. It was always different: sometimes anger, sometimes grief, sometimes hatred, but always rooted in a deep sense of disgust. 

Part of it was aimed at herself, some reaction to not being as perfect as she aspired to be, but the rest was public domain. It focused on Shadow Weaver, for the way she’d learned to think about herself; on Micah and Angella, for how horribly _kind_ they’d been to her, as if she was some fragile thing that could crack apart in their hands at any moment; on her leg, for breaking from the fall all those years ago; the list went on and on. 

Adora took a deep, shuddering breath and closed the tab. That was enough for today. 

It was a long while before she managed to get her homework done, and even longer before she managed to eat a few bites of the takeout the three of them ordered from some new place down the road. That night, after an hour or so of playing video games with Bow, she lay in bed tossing and turning for what felt like hours. Finally, she fell asleep, dreaming of sharp claws and glass legs. 

*** * ***

Normally, Mondays were Catra’s absolute least favorite day of the week, but somehow when she woke up that morning she felt a strange, newfound excitement for the day ahead. She told herself it was because of all sorts of things -- the weed she’d smoked on their balcony all afternoon, Melog sleeping with Scorpia for a change, and listening to the new episode of her favorite podcast, to name a few -- but the part of her that _didn’t_ feel like kidding herself knew it was because of Adora.

To be fair, she was excited about the bag skate, too. She was legitimately looking forward to surprising the team with how good her instincts were, and the idea of having a paying job that could land her ice time whenever she wanted was equally appealing. But more than anything, well… she wanted Adora to like her -- _like_ her, like her -- and that was something she couldn’t face right now. 

A cursory refresh of her email informed her that the history lecture the two of them shared was cancelled today, which meant they wouldn’t have class together again until Wednesday. 

_Shame_ , she thought, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. _I was looking forward to that._ Catra wasn’t sure what Adora was majoring in, but for her, the lecture -- an ancient mythology seminar -- was mainly review. It was a nice break, and still pretty informative, but she’d learned most of the information in high school. Not all of her Gen-Eds carried over from the Horde, though, so she was retaking what she had to now. 

(If it meant she got to stare at the way Adora’s face scrunched when she took notes for a few hours, she’d do it a thousand times over.)

A _prrow_ sounded from below her bed, and she looked over the edge to see Melog, swishing his tail as he sat on the floor. “Morning, Melog,” She said, voice rough. “Coming up?”

No response. He blinked at her, then licked his lips.

“Oh, I see. You just want your breakfast.” 

Melog meowed plaintively. Catra sighed, pushing the covers back. “Fine, fine. I’m coming.”

He brushed against her legs as she made her way to the kitchen, reaching into the cabinet for a can of food. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to have pets in the apartment, but Melog was well-behaved enough to charm Scorpia instantly and smart enough to hide when the super came by. 

Catra leaned back against the counter, watching Melog eat his food in the little white dish by the fridge with a small smile on her face. She’d found him almost a year ago, after she’d first come to Bright Moon, in the dumpster behind her apartment building. She’d been walking one night, trying to clear her head after several hours of tossing and turning, and had heard a small meow from the alley. 

It was basically love at first sight -- on his part, anyway. To tell the truth, she’d been a little freaked out by it at the beginning. He came up to her, cautious at first, before nudging his head into her hand. Not knowing what else to do, she took him back to her apartment that night, and the rest was history. 

Melog had recovered -- and put on a few extra pounds -- since, and Catra firmly believed he’d helped her as much as she’d helped him. When she first arrived at Bright Moon, with its vines and plants and _kindness_ everywhere, such a drastic change from the Fright Zone’s industrial origin, she hadn’t really known what to do. 

That _also_ happened to be the point in her life where she had her first crucial moment of self-doubt. After finally realizing she wanted something different than what she’d created for herself, Catra had thought -- _really_ thought -- about what she needed to change in her life. 

The biggest thing that came up was how she treated other people. It was something she still had trouble with sometimes, and she still felt endlessly sorry for how she’d treated Scorpia for the first few months they’d known each other. She’d apologized (it felt like chewing glass the first few times, but she did it), tried to change some of her more toxic behaviors, and even gone to therapy a few times.

When she found Melog, and experienced pure, unconditional love for the first time in her life, it felt like a new beginning for her. It felt like forgiveness. It was terrifying.

The sound of a door opening shook her from her thoughts. Catra turned, lazily, to see Scorpia walk out of her room. “Morning,” She said with a yawn. “Good morning, Melog.”

He meowed. 

Reaching into the fridge, Scorpia said lightly, “I thought you had class on Mondays.” 

“I do,” Catra said, pouring two cups of coffee before handing one to Scorpia. “Professor cancelled on us today.”

Scorpia hummed, sipping her coffee. “Wanna come to the gym with me?”

“No offense, but absolutely not.”

That got a chuckle. “Well, I better get going if I’m gonna make it to bag skate on time. You’re still coming, right?”

Catra tried to look disinterested. She shrugged, taking another sip of coffee. “If I remember, yeah. Not like I have anything better to do.”

“Sounds good, wildcat. I’ll see you there. Hey, let me know if you want me to grab anything while I’m out.” At Catra’s nod, Scorpia finished her coffee. “Alright, I’m out! Bye, Melog!”

Melog blinked lazily at her, and Catra gave a small wave as the door closed. 

Now alone in the apartment, Catra began to strategize. For the bag skate, she’d need at least one good idea, and that meant she’d need to do some research on conditioning. _That’ll be its own mission_ , she thought, flicking through the search results for ‘best on-ice hockey workouts’. Maybe for today, she’d just observe until she found something for them to improve.

Catra still wasn’t entirely sure what her job entailed -- was she training them? Was she just there for strategy? -- but she wanted to do it well. And, frankly, if she wanted to look good in front of Adora, that was her business. Sue her. 

Catra closed her eyes, trying to visualize how her portion of practice would go. Instantly, one thing jumped into her mind, and she reached once again for her phone. 

Unexpectedly, her idle, half-hearted Google search _did_ turn up something useful. It was buried in a whole list of other, less-helpful ideas, but it was an idea nonetheless -- study the tape. 

Now _that_ could work. 

Any half-observant person could tell an enemy’s faults to a group of people, but she figured the Rebellion would need more convincing than that. No one -- especially not elite, top-level athletes -- really _liked_ being told their weaknesses, but if there was a visual aid, it would give her a hell of a lot more ground to stand on. 

_Especially,_ Catra thought, _if I can follow it up with exactly how to avoid those weaknesses and exploit them in the other team. Couple that with easy exercises to get around them, and we’re golden._

It wasn’t a pretty job, but it was intriguing. For now, that was all Catra needed. So, pouring a second cup of coffee and plopping down on the couch, she pulled up a recording of Saturday’s game and took out a notepad. 

*** * ***

Bag skate was due to start in about 10 minutes, and Adora was doing her best not to focus on the new coach. She’d gotten to practice (as usual) about half an hour early before remembering she wouldn’t be able to, well, _practice_. The thought had bummed her out, so she’d made her way to the locker room to sit with Micah for a moment and go over the tape from the last game. 

She’d done her best to weasel the information out of him, but every time she alluded to the identity of this mysterious new coach, he only winked and put a finger to his lips.

So here Adora was, slightly frustrated and more than a little anxious to meet whoever would be joining the Rebellion. As captain, she had a responsibility to her team to help her team, and that meant knowing the coaches inside and out. 

Around 15 minutes before practice, people started filtering in, the first of whom were Bow and Glimmer. Seeing them helped ease her nerves. As long as she had them, nothing could catch her off-guard. 

“Hey, Adora.”

_You have to be fucking kidding me._

Adora turned around to see Catra standing in the locker room, hands on her hips and a stupid, smug grin on her face. “You know, there are easier ways to get my attention than becoming a _coach_.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” Catra gave Adora a slow once over, raking her eyes up and down her body, and opened her mouth to say something when she was interrupted.

“Catra! Good, you’re here!” Micah exclaimed, walking over to the two of them. “I see you’ve met Adora. That’s good! You guys will probably be working pretty closely together from now on.”

Adora blinked once, then twice. “W-Working together?”

“Yep!” Micah said, a giant grin on his face. “Catra needs a better grasp on hockey, and I think you’d be a great person to help her communicate her ideas in a way the team will understand.”

 _Great,_ Adora thought. _Just my luck._ She tried to unclench her jaw. “Awesome, Coach,” She said, trying not to sound as strained as she felt. “We’ll get right on that.”

As he walked away, Catra raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright?” There was an unexpected hint of concern in her voice. 

“Fine,” Adora said, a little more firmly than necessary. “Catra, seriously, what are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Micah heard what I had to say after the game and told me to come today, so here I am.” 

Speaking of Micah, his voice rang out from the door. “Alright, folks, on the ice in 5! Catra, can I talk to you?” 

Catra nodded to him, throwing him a quick thumbs-up, before turning back to Adora. “You’re staying for practice, right, Captain?”

 _How did she make_ that _sound sexy?_ Adora felt the tips of her ears turn red, and swallowed hard. “I am. I’ll be on the bench if you need me.” She hesitated a second, trying to find the words for what she wanted to express. After all, it _was_ Catra’s first day, and the team wasn’t exactly guaranteed to welcome her with open arms. “Lose a tooth out there, okay?” 

Catra blinked. Just for a second, her smug grin fell away, and a small smile took its place. “Sure. Yeah.” She seemed to be at something of a loss for words, and-- was that a blush? _Finally_ , Adora thought, _the shoe’s on the other foot._

With a quick smile, Adora left for the benches with pride and another, warmer feeling blooming in her chest. 

*** * ***

Well, _that_ had happened. Catra had done her absolute best to distract Adora -- flirty grin, clear once-over, bedroom eyes -- and she’d _still_ ended up flustered. God. It was almost embarrassing. She was so used to being in control of situations like this, and for the first half of their conversation, she had been. Then Adora had given her that disarming smile and thrown the same stupid phrase she’d said before the game back at her, and Catra had melted like wax under a flame.

Catra hadn’t expected her to remember. Honestly, knowing that simple fact, it made her-- she wasn’t sure _what_ it made her, but she knew it was distracting. 

She allowed herself the luxury of focusing on it while she laced up her skates, turning the last few minutes over in her mind. As soon as the knot was tied, she did her best to push them away, trying to remember the reason she was here in the first place. 

Stepping on the ice, she skated over to where Micah was standing, coming to an effortless stop at his side. 

“Oh, perfect!” He said. “Alright, team. Before we get started, I want you to meet Catra. She’s a figure skater, I know--” There were a few light-hearted boos from the team. “--But she’s got a great eye for strategy. Once we’re done here, we’re going to go to the locker room and she’s going to show us exactly what to watch for.

“But _before_ that,” Micah said, turning back to Catra, “She’s going to skate with you.”

Just as she’d planned, that got the team quiet. She knew, realistically, that one of the best ways to bond as a team was through shared experiences. She needed to prove herself to them. What better way was there than by skating with them?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adora lean forward on the bench. _She’s watching. Good._

So with a few effortless strides, Catra set up on the line with the rest of the team. She ended up next to Glimmer, who raised an eyebrow. “Pretty bold move, Catra.”

She shrugged, watching Micah raise his whistle to his mouth. “Par for the course, Sparkles. See you on the other side.”

The whistle blew and suddenly Catra was moving in tandem with the Rebellion, skidding to a stop on the other line before sprinting back just to hear another tweet. Back and forth they went, skidding to stops and pumping their arms for even a modicum of extra speed, until Catra felt herself gasping for breath and her legs began to turn to jelly. 

Catra wasn’t sure how much time had passed when they finished. All she knew was that her lungs felt like they were on fire and she wasn’t sure her legs would ever work again. At least now she was finally allowed a moment of rest on the goal line. Groaning, she stretched her back. “Fuck, I’m so glad that’s over,” She said to Glimmer, who was currently collapsed on the ground next to her. “I can’t believe you guys do that, like, _ever_.” Hesitating a moment, she stretched out a hand. 

Glimmer looked at it for a second before accepting it gratefully, pulling herself up with a groan. “Is that-- is that _respect_ I hear in your voice, Catra?” Her tone was serious, but there was a hint of mirth in her eyes.

Catra let a laugh bubble out of her. “Don’t push it, Sparkles.”

“I just can’t believe you did that in figure skates,” Said a voice from behind her. Bow, also panting from exertion, had made his way over. “Very impressive.”

She felt a hint of pride at the compliment. “Kinda thought I’d break my ankles, but it was worth it.”

“Catra!” Micah called. “Can I see you for a second?”

She nodded, giving Bow and Glimmer a quick wave. “What’s going on?” Catra asked, coming to a stop.

“Just wanted to check in. We’re heading to the locker room soon. You ready?”

Catra shot a glance over to Adora, who was still watching her from the bench. “I think so. Anything I need to watch for?”

Micah tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Don’t let Swift Wind go off on any tangents. Not during the tape talk, anyway. After that, y’know, it’s your business. Mermista has a tendency to heckle, so don’t let it get to you. That’s all I got.” He checked his watch. “I’ll see you in there, okay?”

By the time Catra had gotten her skates off (and chugged half of Scorpia’s water bottle), the team was beginning to filter back into the locker room. She was standing near the front, where Micah was trying to figure out how to get his phone to play on the TV. 

“Ah! Got it,” He said triumphantly. “Bow, can you get the lights?” On the screen, Catra saw the now-familiar image of Adora in the face-off circle against a Horde player. Micah met her eye and nodded, and she figured that was her cue to start. 

“Okay. Um. Hi, everybody. So, obviously I don’t know much about hockey, but--”

“--I’m sorry, _why_ are you here?” Mermista, sitting near the back of the room, crossed her hands over her chest. 

“Easy, Mermista.” Catra looked over to see Adora leaning in the doorway. She met Catra’s eyes and nodded, encouraging her. 

“As I was _saying_ , I may not be a hockey player, but I know skating. And, honestly, the rest isn’t that hard to figure out. Check this out,” Catra said, fast-forwarding to the first time stamp she’d written down. On the screen, a Horde player lost the puck after a sudden burst of speed. “See that? It’s not the only time it happens. The Horde is so focused on speed and power that they’re ignoring the puck. Catch them on a rush like that, and they’ll waste time stopping and going the other direction.” 

Behind her, the player on screen did exactly that as Bow stole the puck. “The Horde is threatening, I’ll give them that. But they’re too slow to realize their mistakes.”

Looking across the room, Catra saw respect flash across the faces of the Rebellion, followed quickly by interest. It provided a well-needed boost to her ego, and she felt herself gathering steam. She fast-forwarded to a few minutes later. “Now, another thing I noticed is that the Horde relies a _lot_ more on intimidation than their actual skills. Here,” She said, pausing on a still of a 3-on-1 Horde rush, “Watch this.” On screen, the Horde came barrelling up the ice, and sure enough, the one with the puck barely handled it or made an effort to pass. The two on his wing, however, were clearly trying to make themselves more threatening.

Mermista leaned forward. “So what do we do?”

“Easy,” Catra said, grinning. “Disrupt it. For a setup like this, where it’s three Horde players against one of you, it’s a little risky, but for a 3-on-2 and beyond, if one person lays a strong check and another comes up to steal the puck, those other meatheads won’t know what’s going on.”

On she went, highlighting errors that could be capitalized on, until she came to the overtime period with only a few minutes left to go in practice. “The overtime goal was scored by a player wearing #1,” Catra said, casting her eyes around the room. “From what I hear, they’ve been calling him Prime. I didn’t see him at any point during the rest of the game, which means he’s some kind of secret weapon they have. Be careful of this one. If he’s on the ice, don’t let him get anywhere _near_ the puck.”

By this point, even Micah was taking notes. He stood up with a huge, radiant smile on his. “Great stuff, Catra, really. Alright, folks, looks like that’ll do it for us. Our next practice is Wednesday at 4pm. Don’t be late.”

As the team began to file out, Catra heard footsteps behind her. Turning around, she saw Adora making her way over. “Hey, Catra. You did really well.”

A sudden spike of heat pooled in the lower part of her stomach at the words. _Definitely not examining_ that _right now._ “Oh. Thanks,” Catra said, trying to focus on anything other than Adora’s stupid smile. “I was actually just leaving, so--”

Adora interrupted her. “Come to Netossa and Spinnerella’s with us tonight.” 

“What?”

“They do Sunday night dinners every week, but yesterday was their anniversary, so they moved it to tonight. It’s a team tradition, and since you’re kinda part of the team now, I just thought…” Adora trailed off, noticing Catra’s openmouthed stare. “Y-You don’t have to, obviously, but--”

“Yeah, I mean, do they-do they want me there?” Catra winced. She hadn’t meant the words to sound so _vulnerable_.

Adora shrugged. “Well, they have to get to know you -- the _real_ you -- somehow. And, actually,” She said, scratching the back of her head as a blush spread across her face, “So do I.”

“For _purely_ professional reasons, I’m sure.” 

“Right. Yeah. Of course.” Adora coughed. “Anyway, here’s my number. If you end up wanting to come, let me know and I’ll, uh, send you the address.”

Catra couldn’t help herself. “So I should let you know if I want to come, huh?”

Realization, followed by absolute mortification, dawned on Adora’s face. “Oh, fuck, that’s not what I-- I mean, _yeah_ , but--”

“Relax, Adora,” Catra said, bubbling with laughter. “I’ll let you know.” 

Adora turned to leave, but felt a hand on her arm stopping her. She raised an eyebrow in a clear question. 

“Sorry, I just-- I just wanted to say…” Catra cleared her throat, putting her arm back firmly by her side. “Thanks, Adora.”

She smiled. “Anytime.”

*** * ***

For what it’s worth, Adora really _hadn’t_ meant for that sentence to come out the way it did. Even now, hours later, she was still thinking about it. Although, to be fair, it wasn’t like she _didn’t_ want Catra to text her if she--

“--Adora? You there?”

She was broken from her spiral by Spinnerella, who was looking at her expectantly. “Uh. What?”

“I asked if you wanted another drink.”

Adora looked down at her cup, which was still completely full. “Uh, thanks, Spinnerella, but I’m still good.”

“Well, you let me know, alright?” Spinnerella put a warm, welcoming hand on her shoulder. “Any word from Catra yet?”

Adora checked her phone. It turned on (just like it had for the past thirty minutes) to a blank screen. “Uh, nope. Not yet,” She said, trying to keep disappointment from seeping into her voice. “She might not. I don’t know if she’s, like, comfortable meeting everyone like this yet.”

She was interrupted by a buzz from her phone. Quelling the hope she felt springing up, she saw a notification from an unknown number. 

_???: hey adora ;)_

_???: (its catra)_

Feeling a smile creep onto her face, Adora began to type back. “I take it back. Speak of the devil, I guess,” She murmured. 

Spinnerella smiled, patting her on the back before leaving for the other side of the room, where Adora was faintly aware of Mermista and Netossa arm-wrestling. 

_**Adora** : Oh! Hi Catra_

_**Adora** : Are you coming to the party?_

_**catra** : i suppose it couldn’t hurt. how else will the team know how cool i am_

With a chuckle, Adora rolled her eyes. She typed out the address. 

_**Adora** : Aren’t you an econ major? I’m not sure cool is the word they’d use_

_**catra** : :( i have other redeeming qualities_

_**Adora** : Uh huh. Ok well lmk when you’re close and I’ll make you a drink_

A few minutes passed. Adora sipped her drink, scrolling through her Twitter feed until a notification came in. 

_**catra** : im outside_

_Finally_. Adora set her drink down and made her way over to the door, flinging it open to see Catra standing there with her hands in her pockets. 

“You’re here,” Adora said. If her voice sounded breathless, she wouldn’t admit it. “Come on in!”

From across the room, Scorpia heard the door slam and saw her roommate enter. “Oh, hey! Look who made it! Guys, check it out!”

The majority of the team was already a little tipsy, so Catra was greeted with good-natured hoots and hollers rather than the passive stares from earlier. _That’s nice_ , she thought. _I could get used to this._ True to her word, Adora guided her over to the kitchen and asked, “Alright, what can I get you?”

Catra thought for a moment, realized she didn’t really care, and shrugged. “Surprise me. Is there a hockey specialty drink I should know about?”

“We don’t have any tonight, but for actual parties, someone usually makes jungle juice with whatever’s on hand,” Adora said, slicing a lime before squeezing it onto a cup of ice. “It depends on who was in the box at the end of the game. Normally it’s Frosta, but we’ve all had a shot.” She chuckled, looking at Catra for a moment. “Last time it was Bow’s turn to make it, he poured four bottles of tequila in it and then dumped a whole container of lemonade mix in.” 

Catra grimaced. “That sounds gross.”

“It was horrible. Half the team threw up, and the other half didn't remember anything that happened,” Adora said, finishing up the drink. “We all voted to ban Bow from ever making it again.” She slid it over to Catra, who peered over the counter to look at it.

“And this is..?” 

“Vodka, ginger ale, and a little lime juice.”

Catra hummed, taking a sip. “Not bad. You know, normally when people make me a drink it’s just cheap liquor with a drop of Hawaiian Punch in it.” 

“Well, consider this one of the perks of joining the Rebellion.” Adora smiled despite herself. Something in the distance caught her eye. Swift Wind had challenged Netossa to a dance-off on the balcony, which could only end badly. She groaned. “Alright, I have to make sure those knuckleheads don’t die. Will you survive without me for a second?”

Catra rose her cup in salute. “I’ll do my best.”

It was funny, Catra thought as she absorbed the scene, but she didn’t think she’d ever been to a party like this before. Normally, the ones she went to were less… friendly. Here, though, Sea Hawk was singing karaoke while Mermista mercilessly heckled him, Bow and Glimmer were taking selfies in the slowly fading light, and Adora was trying to dance with her crutches in an attempt to distract Netossa and Swift Wind. There was an undercurrent here that Catra couldn’t place, some mix of community, compassion, and pure glee that she didn’t understand.

 _Family_.

The word popped into her head suddenly, but she knew instantly that it was the right descriptor.

Part of her wanted to run. It would be so easy to leave. No one was really paying her any mind, and the only people who would notice were Scorpia and Adora.

Even as she thought it, Catra felt something shift in her. Maybe it was the music playing low over the small speaker in the kitchen, maybe it was the fact that she’d passed some kind of test by the team’s standards, and maybe it was the way Adora’s smile caught the light of the setting sun, but today, something told her to stay. 

Who was she to disagree with that?

Catra took another sip of her drink, feeling a small smile creep onto her face as Bow and Glimmer waved her over to them. Being here with the team, she had almost expected to feel out of place. Instead, she felt wanted. She felt like she had a purpose. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 


	4. buzzer-beater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora talks about her feelings. Catra throws in a towel. The team plays the semi-final game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everybody! i know it's been a minute since the last chapter, and i truly am sorry for how long this one is, but we have a lot of ground to cover before the finals. this chapter sees the return of actual hockey playing, which is very fun! that said, there's a lot of really big, important stuff happening in the world right now, and i just want to say, now and forever, Black lives matter. i know i personally have used writing as a way to focus on something i can control, so if you need something to escape into, feel free to do it here. 
> 
> trigger warning: this chapter does feature a brief mention of attempted suicide. 
> 
> anyway, all that aside, please enjoy!

In the three weeks that had passed since Catra first signed on to help coach the Rebellion, a lot had happened. She’d successfully used her observation to get them into the second round of the playoffs, for one – Salineas had been good, sure, but nowhere _near_ good enough – and Adora’s leg had healed, though Glimmer and Bow weren’t exactly hiding their worry about her going right back into games.

Highest on her list, however, was that she and Adora had started having strategy meetings. Sometimes, Bow and Glimmer, as both the assistant captains and Adora’s roommates, would make an appearance to voice their own concerns, which Catra found herself surprisingly grateful for. 

Glimmer had offered some tips during practice for how to avoid defensemen while maintaining speed – a spin maneuver. It had half the team tripping over their own feet, but it was a start. Catra was able to use her own knowledge of control in spins and guided them through it, and before they knew it they had a working evasion tactic. 

Since Angella had cleared her to get back on the ice ( _very_ sternly, and not without a proper dressing-down), Adora had started joining them for practice. Catra, who had never really seen Adora in practice settings prior to this (with the exception of their first meeting), was almost shocked at how _instantly_ clear it was that Adora was the hardest-working person on the ice. 

No matter what they were doing – drills, bag skates, or even just warm-ups – Adora was there first and gone last. When Catra had suggestions for her, she didn’t respond to them with the same knee-jerk reluctance the rest of the team was prone to: she listened. Like, _actually_ listened. She’d ask questions to clarify, and, more often than not, would nail it on the first try. Even better was the fact that when the rest of the team saw her doing it, they usually grumbled less and started to pay attention more. 

Sunday nights at Netossa and Spinnerella’s house had become a regular occurrence for Catra, and after a few weekends in a row of attending, she began to think of it – like the rest of the practices, tape review sessions, strategy meetings, and, of course, games – as just another part of her routine. 

The playoffs weren’t what she had expected them to be. According to Micah, who thought he wasn’t seeing clearly when he first saw the schedule, the league was doing something different this year. Apparently, the league had decided to have a best-of-3 series to determine who moved forward after the first round, and then switched to single-elimination games. 

Catra wasn’t sure what it meant in terms of the season length, but she _did_ know that the Rebellion – especially her and Adora – would need to use it to capitalize on their opponents’ weaknesses as quickly as they could. 

(As it turned out, that meant she and Adora spent practically every minute of their free time together going over ideas for new drills until their brains were sore, watching tape on Catra’s computer until their eyes hurt, and, in the moments where hockey took a backseat, just talking to each other. 

Catra found out, for example, that Adora had a fake ID from when she was a teenager because she wanted to buy fish. In turn, she’d let slip that once, while drunk, she’d set her phone password to 42069 and couldn’t figure out how to change it back. Adora had thrown her head back and laughed until she cried at that one, and Catra couldn’t help but stare and let herself laugh along with her.)

Just as Adora had predicted, they won the quarterfinal series against Salineas in the first two games. While the two of them were more than satisfied with the results, they’d agreed after the fact that going over mistakes couldn’t hurt. 

Actually, what had happened was Adora proposed it and Catra had been too taken with the way the late afternoon sun caught her eyes to deny her. She was really going to have to work on that.

In three days, they would play the semi-final game against the Mystacor Sorcerers. A quick Google search and a few minutes of watching them play told Catra they would be tricky opponents to outsmart, but weren’t a very physical team. That meant they’d have to be on the top of their technical skills in order to beat them, but they’d have an advantage in the form of their ability to check. 

(At the time, Adora had nodded seriously and said, “Forecheck, backcheck, paycheck.” 

Catra had been too afraid to ask what the fuck she was talking about, and had responded with “Sure.”)

Now, she was standing in front of Adora’s apartment, and, just like she had done for the past few weeks, gave the door a few cursory knocks. Normally, she’d knock, wait a second, and eventually be greeted by Glimmer, who would invite her in and then get mad at her for taking a soda from the fridge. Textbook stuff, really. 

Right on schedule, Glimmer opened the door. “Oh, hey, Catra. Are you here for Adora?”

Catra nodded, peering over Glimmer’s head to see Bow working on a pile of homework at the dinner table. “Sure am, Sparkles. Is she in her room?”

“Yeah,” Glimmer said, opening the door wider to let her through. “But she’s been kinda… distant today, if that makes sense? I don’t know, she’s usually more _present_ during the playoffs.”

“Maybe it’s because her first game back is so soon,” Said Bow, arching his back in a stretch. “Man, my back is _killing_ me today.”

“How long have you had your binder on?” Catra asked, opening the fridge. She looked around for a moment before selecting a can of soda and popping the tab open. Glimmer had rolled her eyes and said things like _oh, sure, make yourself at home_ and _you know you don’t live here, right?_ the first few times she’d done it, but now she just settled for an annoyed look and an eye roll.

“All day.” Bow had a moment of sudden realization. “Oh. That’s probably why.”

Glimmer frowned, pointing to Bow. “Actually, you’re probably right.” She chewed at the inside of her lip. “Remember last year, after, well… everything?”

“Oh, _true_.” At Catra’s confused stare, Bow elaborated. “When we were up against the Horde in the finals last year, she got this _really_ bad injury at the start of the second period. It threw us all off really bad, ‘cause we were so worried about her, y’know?” He grimaced. “That’s part of the reason Angella was so nervous about letting her back on the ice this week.”

“Anyway, right before our first preseason game this year, she got really, _really_ freaked out,” Glimmer said, crossing her arms and frowning at the memory. “We offered to help her, but she said she had to deal with it on her own, and ran off for _hours_.” She shook her head. “I’m a little worried about her.”

Catra frowned, the lines of her forehead deepening in concern. “Yeah. Shit. I’ll keep an eye out,” She said, walking toward Adora’s door. She knocked softly, and opened the door after hearing a muffled version of Adora’s voice saying _come in_. 

“Hey, Adora,” Catra said, taking her backpack off and plopping down on Adora’s bed. “You okay?”

Adora cleared her throat. “Um, yeah,” She said, not quite meeting Catra’s eyes. She sniffled loudly, grabbing a tissue from a nearby box. “Totally.” 

_Very convincing_ , Catra thought. She debated for a moment about whether to dig deeper or let it be. On one hand, it probably wasn’t her business. On the other, Adora being worried made her worried. She closed her eyes. _Am I really about to do this?_

_Yep._

“Hey, um… I don’t want to, like, overstep, or anything, but–”

“Glimmer and Bow are worried about me, and you want to see if they have a reason to be.” Catra’s eyes flew open to see Adora leaning back in her desk chair with her arms crossed. She was staring at something on the floor. Looking up at where Catra was staring at her in a mix of disbelief and apprehension, she shrugged. “We have thin walls.”

“Right.” Catra took a deep breath, trying to just get the words out. “So. Do you want to, um…” _You can do this._ “...Talk about it?”

Adora didn’t answer.

Catra nodded to herself. “That’s cool. Hey, we can reschedule if you want, I don’t– we don’t have to–”

“No, I just–” Adora took a deep, shaky breath. “We can talk about it. It’s kind of… a whole thing, though.”

“I’m all yours.” 

Adora looked her up and down for a moment. “Okay, um… just promise me you won’t feel sorry for me.”

Catra scoffed, scooting closer to where Adora was sitting at her desk until they were close enough to touch. “Come on. I would never.”

Nodding, Adora looked up at the ceiling. “Right. Shit. Um.” She exhaled forcefully before slowly opening her computer. On it, a video of a hockey game – a _Rebellion_ hockey game, Catra noticed, was paused on–

“Holy shit, Adora,” Catra said, flinching away from it out of reflex. “Is that you?”

Adora nodded. “They told you about the injury, right?” At Catra’s nod, she gestured to the screen. “That’s it.”

“Okay, and you’re reliving it because..?”

Adora laughed bitterly. “Now _there’s_ a story.”

Catra raised her eyebrows in a clear invitation. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Adora sighed, putting her face in her hands. “God. Alright, basically, this whole fuckin’ thing started because of my old coach. Her name was Shadow Weaver.” At Catra’s look of confusion, she clarified, “This was back before Bright Moon, when I was playing in the Fright Zone.”

“Wait, you were with the Horde?”

“No, I-I played for a different league. I was, uh, right below the pro leagues, actually.”

Catra raised her eyebrows with a low whistle. She hadn’t realized Adora was that good. “No shit.”

Adora nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“So what… happened?” Catra tried not to let the worry building in her creep into her voice. “With the coach, I mean?”

Adora was quiet for a long time before she spoke. She cleared her throat. “I was, uh… I was the team’s leading scorer. I centered the first line, just like I do here. At the time, I was projected to be drafted in the top 10 picks of the first round.”

“‘Kay, so, you were good.”

“No, Catra,” Adora said quietly. “I was the _best_.”

Catra fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Right. My bad.”

“No, it’s– I know how it sounds,” Adora said, shaking her head in frustration. “I-I don’t know how to explain it, okay? I was 17, and I was trapped in a life that I wasn’t sure I wanted anymore, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I started drinking more, partying more, and... I started getting worse.”

That sent a chill down Catra’s spine. She didn’t like where this was going. 

She stayed quiet, giving Adora room to speak. “Three months before the draft, my team was set to start our championship finals. I was training every day with Shadow Weaver, and she was pushing me and, honestly, I was pushing _myself_ to be _better_ , you know?” Tears were streaming wordlessly down Adora’s cheeks, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were fixed firmly on a spot on the wall.

“The night before our biggest, championship-defining game, I couldn’t sleep. It hadn’t been a good day for me. Honestly, it hadn’t been a good _month_ for me. At the end of our practice that day, Shadow Weaver was clearly disappointed in me, and she said something– I can’t remember what it was exactly, but it was something along the lines of _you aren’t trying hard enough_ and _I didn’t train you to be this bad_ and _if you don’t get better and we lose tomorrow, it will be your fault_.” She swallowed. “I told her I was doing my best, and everything, but she said my best wasn’t good enough anymore.”

Catra wanted to comfort Adora, wanted to reach out and tell her it would be alright. Her voice lost its normal edge. “Adora, what happened?”

“I snapped.” Adora said, voice suddenly hoarse. “I drank the whole minibar and jumped off my balcony. I don’t know what I was thinking, honestly, I–”

“I do,” said Catra quietly. She reached out and squeezed Adora’s hand. “You were scared, right?” At Adora’s wordless nod, she continued. “Even though it wasn’tyour fault– and it _wasn’t_ , Adora, don’t give me that look – she made you feel responsible for it.” Shit, she wasn’t sure if she could handle this the right way. Heart-to-hearts were not her strong suit. 

Catra took a deep breath. “That’s a terrible, fucked up thing to do to someone. You know that, right?” After a second, Adora nodded, turning her hand over. She laced her fingers with Catra’s. 

Wiping the tears off her face with her other sleeve, Adora cleared her throat. “Yeah. My room was on the second story, so I only actually fell, like, 20 feet.” She shrugged. “Didn’t matter to her. The fall fucked up my leg, which took me out of the draft, which meant Shadow Weaver dropped me.” 

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s harsh.”

“Yeah, well, I was never anything more than a means to an end for her.” Adora shrugged. “At least here, I feel like I’m doing something meaningful.”

Catra squeezed her hand. “You’re not a means to an end for this team, either.”

Adora gave her a genuine — if tight-lipped — smile. “I don’t mind it. I _want_ to do it. Shit, I’ll do anything for this team after what they did for me. If they want me to bleed, I’ll bleed.”

“I can’t tell if that’s noble or stupid,” Catra said, frowning. “So, wait, how does the injury factor in?” 

“Oh” Adora said, humming _._ “I tore a ligament, which I probably _wouldn’t_ have done if it wasn’t for—”

“The Shadow Weaver incident,” Catra finished. “I get it. So rewatching the tape—”

“–Reminds me of the injury, which reminds me of… that. Yeah.”

“Is that… healthy?”

Adora shrugged. “Probably not. But it works.”

“Word of advice,” Catra said, squeezing Adora’s hand. “You should probably see someone about it.”

Adora hummed noncommittally.

“Come on, I’m serious. It helps to talk about it, y’know? Plus, you leave with some strategies to deal with it better. It’s a pretty good deal.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Adora said. They were quiet for a long moment before she spoke again, exhaling loudly. “Wow. Um. Sorry, I really unloaded all of that onto you in a hurry. I-I totally get if you want to skip today’s session.” 

“Nope.”

“No?”

Catra raised an eyebrow. “We still have research to do,” She said, taking her laptop out of her bag. “Sorry, _Captain_ , but I’m not leaving here until I know we’re winning this game.”

Catra began to speak, highlighting the flaws and weaknesses of the enemy defense, and realized after a moment that Adora hadn’t actually said anything. She looked over on a whim, expecting to see her taking notes or listening thoughtfully. 

Instead, Adora was staring at her with a small, open-mouthed smile on her face. For some reason, it made Catra feel self-conscious, and she felt a blush begin to form. “Wh-what? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, I just…” Adora trailed off, eyes flicking down to her lips. Catra noticed for the first time how close they were. In the air between them, their fingers were still laced together loosely, with Adora’s hands providing a warm hold around her own. Their faces were only inches apart, Catra realized. A warm, electric shock ran down her spine at the thought. 

All she’d have to do was lean a little closer. 

She licked her lips, watching Adora’s pupils dilate a fraction at the sight, and began to close the gap between them. 

Just as Adora was leaning in to meet her, a few knocks on the door had them leaping apart. Bow opened it to see Catra pressed up against the wall behind the bed. “Hey, guys, Glimmer says she’s starving and wants to order pizza. Any requests?”

Adora blinked a few times, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Um. Yeah. Um,” She floundered, looking over to Catra with a plea for help in her eyes.

Catra jumped in. “Whatever you guys want is fine. How about, like, Hawaiian?”

Bow snapped his fingers, pointing at her gleefully. “ _Thank_ you, Catra. I keep telling Glimmer pineapple on pizza is awesome, but she won’t go for it,” He said, shaking his head. “Alright, I’ll call it in. Sorry to bug you guys!”

When the door closed behind them, Catra couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her. She put her hands in her face, covering the blush spreading across it. “Well, that _almost_ happened.”

Adora, who was equally (if not more) red, smiled shyly at her. “It almost did.” The smile began to slip off her face. “Listen, I-I need to tell you something. We’ve been flirting for weeks now, and I think it’s obvious that there’s something between us.” Adora sighed. “And I really like you, Catra–”

Catra’s smile faltered as she felt a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. “I feel like there’s a _but_ coming.” 

“–But I don’t know if this is a good idea right now.” 

Catra frowned. “What, kissing me?”

“And, y’know,” Adora swallowed. “Other things. Possibly. If that’s where we end up.” At Catra’s raised eyebrow, words started to spill out of her hastily. “I just-the team is counting on me for playoffs, and we always say _no distractions_ , and it’s just–”

“Is that what I am to you?” Catra asked, an edge slipping into her voice. “A distraction?”

“No!” Adora said firmly. “No. I just…” She trailed off, trying to find the words. “If I kiss you now, I won’t be able to think about doing anything else. And I _want_ to,” She said with more than a hint of desperation. “And if you’ll still have me when this is all done, I will.” 

Catra ignored the traitorous heat that bloomed in her stomach at the thought. “Adora, I–”

“You don’t have to say anything! We can just go back to studying the tape–”

“Okay, well, fucking _yes,_ I have to say something,” Catra said, voice rising a little in frustration. “I mean– what the fuck, you try to kiss me and then tell me you can’t?”

“Technically _you_ tried to kiss _me_ ,” Adora said faintly. 

Catra gave her an annoyed look. “Squares and rectangles,” She said, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head. “You know what? I think I’m gonna head out.” 

“Catra, wait–”

“Adora,” Catra said, holding up a hand to silence her, “We’ll talk about this. Okay? I just– I need some time to think.” 

“Okay,” Adora said in a small voice. “I was just going to tell you to watch out for your soda. It’s, um. It’s still on the floor.”

Against her wishes, Catra felt a small smile creep onto her face. “You’re such an idiot.”

The door closed behind her, and Catra leaned back on it, shutting her eyes tightly. Her mind was working at about a thousand miles per second given everything that had just happened. She needed ice time and a smoke.

Her eyes flew open, and she began a beeline for the apartment door, not bothering to answer Glimmer’s confused question about where she was going. After the door closed, she ran down the hall, feeling the wind whip her hair behind her, until she made it to the elevator doors. 

It was then, standing in an empty elevator, that she allowed herself to scream. 

*** * ***

It was hard for Adora to shake the feeling that she had fucked up massively. 

After the door closed, Adora sat at her desk for what felt like hours picturing the anger and hurt on Catra’s face, replaying the moment in her mind over and over again. Distantly, she became aware of the apartment door opening and closing and of voices talking idly. 

As soon as she left her room, she was struck with the smell of pizza, and saw Bow getting three plates from their kitchen cabinet. He jumped when he noticed her – Adora realized too late that she hadn’t made enough noise to alert him – and put a hand to his chest. “Jeez. Warn a guy next time.”

“Sorry,” She mumbled, head rushing at a million miles an hour. “Hey, I have something to tell you guys.”

She didn’t miss the look Glimmer shot Bow, nor did she miss the way her eyes narrowed a fraction. “It wouldn’t happen to be the reason Catra practically sprinted out of the apartment, would it?”

Adora nodded slowly, putting a piece of pizza on her plate. “It would.” She waited until they all had gotten food before speaking. “Okay, so, you know how we have the total honesty policy?”

Bow nodded. 

“Right,” Adora said, fiddling with her napkin. “I, um. Catra and I almost kissed.”

Glimmer yelled, “WHAT?” at the same time Bow gave a triumphant cheer. Across from Adora, Glimmer’s eyes were like saucers. “Adora, I thought we agreed we’d have no distractions!”

“Okay, well, I’m getting to that. Like I said, we _almost_ kissed,” She said, putting emphasis on the word, “But I told her I couldn’t really be with her until after the playoffs are over.”

“Oh my God,” Bow whispered, leaning forward in anticipation. “What did she say?”

“Well, she looked pretty pissed, and she said she needed to think for a while, but that we’d talk about it. Then she ran out the door.” Adora said with a groan. She put her face in her hands. 

Bow frowned. “Wow. I didn’t realize you were so into her. Then again,” He said, tapping a finger to his chin, “You _have_ been spending an awful lot of time together recently. Just so we know, is this an _I-want-to-hook-up-with-her_ or an _I-want-to-go-out-with-her_ kind of thing?”

Adora’s face was still buried in her hands, and her first words came out muffled. “God, I–” She exhaled loudly before facing Bow and Glimmer again. “I want to know _everything_ about her. I-I want to know what she sounds like when she sings, I want to know the way she looks when she’s trying not to smile at cheesy lines in a rom-com, I want–”

“To sleep with her,” Glimmer supplied unhelpfully.

“Yes, Glimmer, _obviously_ I want to sleep with her, but I–” She paused, shaking her head. “I want to be her best friend, too. I just–I want to take in everything about her and-and let it stew in me until I’d know it in my bones. I want to get drunk on her.”

“Uh, wow. Okay.” Bow blinked, eyes wide. “Do you need a minute?”

“Can you see why I’m having some issues with this set-up?”

“I– yeah. Yep.”

Adora groaned again. Her pizza was cold by this point, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “What the fuck do I do? What _can_ I do?”

Bow winced in sympathy. “This sounds like a really hard situation, Adora. I’m glad she’s willing to talk things through, though! That’s a good sign!” The cheer in his voice felt only the slightest bit forced.

“Yeah,” Adora said. Her voice sounded distant. “I think I’m going to go for a run. I might be gone a while.”

Glimmer put a hand on her arm. “I’m really sorry, Adora.” 

Adora looked over at where her friend’s face practically dripped remorse and smiled sadly. “I know.”

“Are you feeling okay about the game?” Bow asked, putting a hand over her hand. 

“Fuck. I don’t know.” Adora rested her forehead on the table. “No,” She said truthfully, trying to remember what Perfuma had told her about being honest with her emotions. _They can be messy_ , she’d said. _But that’s okay. Just be honest._ “I’m… nervous about it. And thinking about losing our shot at the national championship makes me feel nauseous.”

Bow looked at Glimmer. 

Glimmer looked at Bow. “We’re going to do the best we can.” She said, coming over to wrap an arm around her.

“What if it’s not good enough?” Adora asked quietly, still facedown.

Glimmer was quiet for a moment. “Then we give them hell anyway.”

*** * ***

By the end of the first period, Adora was almost wondering what she’d been worried about in the first place. 

A well-timed shot from Mermista on an odd-man rush alongside Swift Wind and Sea Hawk had given them an early lead, revving the home crowd up almost instantly and putting Adora’s mind at ease.

Soon after, her line had jumped on the ice during a penalty kill (Frosta, for tripping, which she claimed was a complete accident with a huge smile on her face) and potted a shorthanded goal after a powerful, perfectly timed check on one of the Sorcerers’ defenders from Bow had allowed to Adora to steal the puck and send it up to Glimmer, where she scored on a breakaway.

By the time the buzzer sounded, they were up 2-0, and Adora was feeling good.

The locker room was practically buzzing when she walked in, and she made sure to congratulate Mermista again as she passed her. As Adora moved to sit down on the bench, taking her helmet off for a moment of fresh air, she felt someone grab her arm. 

She found herself looking at Catra, who was now a few inches shorter than her than usual, and couldn’t help the nervous fluttering in her stomach. “Oh. Um. Hi, Catra. What, um, what’s–”

“Does it strike you as weird that the Sorcerers aren’t playing as well as they should be?” Catra interrupted. 

Adora frowned, momentarily stunned by the question. “Uh, not really? We have home ice and they’re… y’know, _good_ , but not the best team.”

“Something about it doesn’t feel right,” She said, urgency seeping into her voice. “I mean, they’re normally better than this.” She frowned, staring at a spot on Adora’s stick. “I don’t know what they’re planning, but I don’t think it’s going to be good.”

Adora frowned, eyes wide. “Planning? Wh– Catra, this team hasn’t even _scored_ yet.”

“I know, okay? I know how it sounds, but the way they’re skating…” She shook her head. “It’s not polished enough. It’s like they’re barely working for it. I don’t like it.”

Adora bit back a comment about how the lack of goals had clued her in on that. Instead, she scratched the back of her head. “Uh, okay. What should we do? Do you want to tell the team?”

But Catra was already shaking her head. “Micah is about to warn them. I’m worried they’re hiding something, and I don’t want to see y–” She stopped, swallowing. “I don’t want to see _anyone_ on the team get hurt out there.” 

It was the most worried Adora had ever seen her. “I’ll keep an eye out,” She said, trying to reassure her with a gentle nod. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah,” Catra said, brow furrowed. She turned to walk away, but hesitated. “Hey, your knee’s feeling okay, right?” She asked, still facing the other direction.

Truthfully, it was a little sore, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m all good,” Adora said, putting a gentle hand on Catra’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me.” Across the room, she could hear Micah start talking. “I gotta go. Are, um. Are we okay? For the game, at least?”

After a moment, Catra nodded silently. “For the game, yeah. We’ll talk later.” As Adora turned to leave, she said, “Oh, and, um…” She turned halfway to where Adora had paused. “Lose a tooth.”

With a slightly stunned nod, Adora left for where Micah was going over strategy and hyping them up for the next period. She found it hard to listen without thinking of the worried – like, really, legitimately, _I-don’t-want-to-see-you-get-hurt_ worried – expression on Catra’s face. 

A few moments before the period’s start, Adora skated to center ice for the faceoff with Bow and Glimmer close behind. Her opponent, #5, looked about her age, though she was taller, and gave her a hard stare as she approached. 

_Time to have a little fun._ “What’s wrong, bud? Leave your legs on the bench?”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Adora tsked, turning to Bow with a stage whisper. “He’s dodging the question.”

Just as the other player was about to respond, the ref skated over with the puck, making eye contact with both of them before throwing it down on the ice. 

As soon as the puck was dropped, Adora drew her stick back, sending it behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bow passing hard to Glimmer. There was a clear lane between them, and Adora tapped her stick hard on the ice, receiving the puck a second later. 

Then, she saw the center she’d faced off with heading straight towards her, thumping against her body in what could only be described as a mediocre check. Adora absorbed the hit, then knocked him down easily, sliding the puck backwards, where Netossa raced behind her to pick it up. The check hadn’t hurt – it hadn’t felt like much at all, honestly– but the fact that he had _tried_ made her a little uneasy. 

Powering up into the offensive zone, she saw Spinnerella start to cycle the puck, sending it flying along the boards over to where Bow was set up in the opposite corner. As she set up on the other side of the ice, away from where Bow and Glimmer were drawing attention, she felt pressure on her side from one of the Sorcerers trying to shove her away. 

Partially out of reflex, and partially out of the annoyance the check had created in her, Adora turned her head, shoving back. In that split second, three things happened.

One: because Adora was glaring at and shoving the defenseman trying to tangle up her stick, she didn’t notice Netossa finally getting the puck free and passing it over to her.

Two: though _she_ missed the pass, the D-man didn’t, and he intercepted it with a stick before sliding it over to one of his teammates.

Three: the open forward – who Adora now realized had been there strategically – was now striding up the ice on one of the fastest breakaways she’d ever seen. 

_Shit._

Adora skated as fast as she could towards where he was trying to fake out Scorpia, ignoring the way her knee pulsed as she did. But the first period had tired her out, and it just wasn’t enough. 

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

Around her, the crowd groaned, and the Mystacor bench erupted in cheers. Adora felt like throwing up. Behind her, she heard Glimmer yell “FUCK!” at the top of her lungs, which she was sure would be censored in the official game tape. She heard ice carving behind her, and turned to see Bow standing next to her with a frown on his face. “Shit,” He said quietly. “We have to be more careful.”

From the bench, she saw Micah, who suddenly looked _far_ less happy than he had during the intermission, waving his finger in a circle in a universal _wrap-it-up_ gesture as Perfuma, Frosta, and Swift Wind prepared to go out on the ice. _Jesus_ , Adora thought, skating back and climbing over the boards. _Was that only the first shift?_

After sitting down on the bench and watching Frosta win the faceoff at center ice, Adora heard Micah walk until he was standing behind her. She closed her eyes in anticipation of what was coming. “What’s the first rule of hockey?” He asked quietly, leaning down so he was right in her ear. 

Adora, who had been playing on this team for two years prior to this season, knew what was coming. She exhaled quickly, trying not to let her frustration give her voice an edge. “Keep your head up.”

“And what did you do?” He asked, eyes still firmly on the game. 

Rather than answer, Adora considered just slamming her head down on the wall to get the whole thing over with. “I didn’t keep my head up.”

Micah nodded. “You let yourself get distracted,” He corrected, finally making eye contact with her. “Don’t let it happen again.”

Feeling rage and shame burn in her throat, Adora just nodded, watching Frosta slam one of the Sorcerers up against the boards. Bow and Glimmer were sitting next to her, though they did a very good job of pretending like they hadn’t been listening. 

Lines changed around them, and the three of them watched the game progress with increasing levels of fear. After Adora’s mishandle of the offensive zone situation, she’d hoped they would be able to get an extra goal in the net to widen the lead again and make up for it. 

Instead, by the time she went back out on the ice, the score was freshly tied. On one of the penalty kill units, Bow had been trying to get the puck over from Swift Wind for one of the long-range cannons he was famous for, and was knocked flat out of nowhere by one of the taller Mystacor players. The whole Rebellion bench had shot to their feet yelling for a penalty, but the ref had ignored them. 

It had been a done deal for the Sorcerers once Bow went down, and the goal horn had rung again. 

The rest of her shifts in the period were unproductive, but _so close_ – Glimmer had almost made a backhand shot, but the goalie had gotten part of his blocker on it, and Adora would’ve put one in the five-hole if not for the defender that jammed her stick in the way. 

As she walked into the locker room after the buzzer, Adora felt her nerves building up.

The rest of the team was quieter now than they had been, and Micah came up to her. “Adora, this is getting bad.”

“Yeah.” She knew what was coming next. “Do you want a check, a fight, or a goal?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Any of them, if you can manage it,” Micah said, glaring at the floor. “We’ll need at leastone goal if we want to plan on making it to the finals without risking overtime, but I want Mystacor to know what being physical _really_ looks like.”

Adora nodded wordlessly. “Anyone in particular?”

“The one that got Bow just now. #13.” 

Adora remembered him with a cold feeling of rage – tall, brawny, and too aggressive for his own good – and turned back to Micah. “Make sure the PK unit that goes on after is up to the job.” With a nod, he left to go talk to the team. 

“I know it’s rude to say I told you so, but I _really_ want to–” Once she saw the expression on Adora’s face, she faltered. “Oh. Shit. Are you–”

She felt the now-familiar sense of cold, clinical rage building in her as she prepared for the next period. “Yeah,” Adora interrupted, putting on a tight smile. “Everything’s fine.” 

*** * ***

It was like she could _feel_ herself transforming.

Her muscles didn’t magically get bigger, or anything, but she felt more focused and more ready to use them. Before they’d gone back out, she’d told Bow and Glimmer her plan for the next period: fight #13, win, and score a goal while Mystacor was still reeling from it. 

(They weren’t as supportive as she had expected, and shared a look that usually meant they were going to have a capital-C _Conversation_ after the game.)

Now, a few minutes into the period, their line was about to go on. As Adora swung a leg over the boards, ready to take the ice, she felt a glove on her arm. 

“Adora, wait,” Bow said, a worried expression taking over his face. “Are you sure this is a good idea with, y’know, your knee and everything?”

“I don’t know,” Adora said honestly. “Maybe not. But I trust Micah’s judgement. And that hit was fucking _dirty_ , Bow. He deserves it for what he did.”

Bow shook his head. “Adora, I don’t know if that’s–”

“What’s the hold-up?” Glimmer asked, making her way over to them. “We have to go.”

“Yeah,” Adora said, staring pointedly at Bow. “We do.”

Without another word, she made her way over to the faceoff dot, clocking where #13 stood behind his center. They were in the Rebellion’s defensive zone, which gave Adora the perfect opportunity to turn the tables on Mystacor and shift them away from offense.

Her knee twinged as she bent down in front of the faceoff dot against the same guy she’d chirped earlier. “What is it, Captain? Nothing to say?” Looking at her now, he wore a cocky smile. 

She wanted to punch it off his face. 

Without looking at him, she said in a flat, even tone, “Talk to me again and I’ll knock enough teeth out of your mouth to keep your orthodontist busy for a year.” 

_That did the job_ , Adora thought, watching as he shut his mouth with an audible click. Three seconds later, when she won the draw and passed the puck over to Glimmer, it took him a minute to realize that she was gunning straight for his teammate. She sped by him, following #13 around the ice until they had a moment alone.

The guy was a big, brawny-looking dude, and had about 4 inches and – by Adora’s estimation – about 30 pounds on her. Plus, he was quick, which she’d have to watch out for. As they set up in the Rebellion’s offensive zone, she nudged him with her stick, pushing him enough to make him look at her. She saw an annoyed gleam in his eye. _Perfect._

“Hey,” Adora said, half-yelling over the noise of the arena, “Shit-for-brains. You fucked up my best friend. I can’t have that.” 

His voice was deep, and more than a little condescending. “Aw. What, are you gonna get mad at me, princess?”

“Nope,” Adora said, keeping her tone even. She dropped her stick, hearing the crowd go wild as she pulled her gloves off one at a time. “But I _do_ want to get even.”

It was a clear challenge, one that she knew an aggressive player like him wouldn’t be able to resist. Sure enough, he threw his gloves off, and the two began to circle each other, drowned out by the noise of the crowd as play was whistled dead on the rest of the ice.

On the bench, Catra pushed her way past the equipment manager to get a better look at what was going on. Her eyes widened when she saw what was happening. 

Adora had fought several people in her time, and she knew that the most important thing was recovering well. After all, it didn’t matter how many hits you could give if you tapped out after taking one. 

So when #13 grabbed a fistful of her jersey in one hand and sent a rock-hard fist right to her cheekbone with the other, Adora rolled with it. A dull, blunt kind of pain blossomed where she’d been hit, and she could feel blood dripping down her cheek. She blinked past it quickly, bringing her fist up again.

She met his eyes again with the same stare of cold determination she was famous for and tightened her grip on his jersey. From the look on his face, he had expected her to go down far quicker than she would. 

He brought his fists down for half a second, and in the opening he created, Adora acted without hesitation. 

She threw four lightning-fast punches to the bridge of his nose until she heard it crackunder her knuckles. It had the intended effect. Blood spurted out freely, covering both his face and part of her jersey. Her opponent doubled over, clutching his nose, and the refs began to approach them, signaling the end of the fight. As the audience crowed in victory, chanting her nickname once again, she looked over to the bench to see Micah nodding. 

Next to him, staring at her with her hands over her mouth, was Catra. 

Adora put her fists down as she met her eyes, not knowing what to do. Her head snapped back a second too late as the goon pushed off the refs with a furious roar and came charging at her. 

When she slammed down onto the ice, she heard more than felt the thud of her head on the hard surface. Her helmet was on, luckily, but it her vision still went blurry. Just as she was blinking through the spots that appeared, a fist slammed hard into the side of her face before the refs – as well as Bow and Glimmer, she thought, but she couldn’t really see much – practically tackled the guy above her. 

All in all, it wasn’t the _worst_ fight she’d ever been in, she thought as she struggled to her feet, still trying to blink through the pain. She wasn’t sure what she looked like, but she knew by the expression on Bow and Glimmer’s faces that it probably wasn’t good. 

“Hey, I won that, right?” Adora asked as they skated with her over to the box. “Like, that last punch was illegal?”

Bow huffed, shaking his head as he handed her the gloves and stick she’d left on the ice. “Is that _really_ what you’re worried about right now?”

“Should I be worried about something else? Micah told me to fight him, and I did,” Adora said, frowning in confusion. “Is there a problem?”

“The _problem_ ,” Glimmer hissed as the ref gave the call for the penalties at center ice, “Is that you listened! Adora, you can’t keep this up forever! You’re going to break something, or fuck up your knee, and it’s going to be _permanent_. You have to be more careful.”

Adora sat down in the box, watching the teams prepare for the faceoff. “We’ll talk about it later. You guys gotta go.”

Bow and Glimmer left, shaking their heads, and out of the corner of her eye she saw movement on the bench. She looked over, expecting to see Micah or Angella, coming to either congratulate or berate her. Instead, she saw Catra holding a towel in her hand. 

Her eyes were wide, and the expression on her face was part worried and part something else entirely. Her pupils were dilated, Adora noticed, which could mean all sorts of things. _Oh my God, is she high?_

Then, Catra’s eyes flicked down with a small, inaudible gasp to where Adora could feel blood dripping from her lips, and– _oh_. 

Lifting her hand, she gave Catra a little wave from the box, and that seemed to snap her out of her reverie. She frowned a little, throwing the towel over the glass. 

Adora caught it, then turned back to Catra with a confused expression. 

Catra rolled her eyes. She brought her hands up to her face and mimed wiping something away. 

“Oh!” Adora exclaimed, far louder than necessary, and watched Catra startle at the sudden sound. “Thanks!”

She chuckled a little as Catra shook her head with a huff, clearly trying to tamp down the smile on her face. Catra made sure to flip Adora off as she walked away, which only made her laugh more.

Adora brought the towel to her face, wincing as it rubbed against the fresh wounds. After wiping away the blood, she was almost surprised to see the amount of red spattered on her jersey. It stood out _far_ too much on the stark white, and clashed horribly with the soft pinks and purple accents. _Shame. I_ just _washed this, too_. 

With a sigh, Adora turned her attention back to the game. 

She still had 3:23 to go in her penalty, so she figured she might as well get comfortable. On the ice, she saw her line change off for Perfuma’s line, and watched them battle at one of the neutral zone faceoff dots over the puck. It looked like her fight had worked in at least some capacity – Mystacor seemed a little off their game. That gave her some relief. 

There were a few high-quality chances on both sides that had her heart racing and the crowd amping up, but they were held at 2-2 by the time her penalty expired. Standing at the door to the box as her line took the ice, she counted down the seconds before leaping back out there in the middle of the action. 

Bow had the puck, and her team was moving up the neutral zone when she jumped out. Catching his eye, she nodded, and he sent the puck over. Dancing around one of the defenders, Adora found herself in a stretch of open ice. Scanning the area around her, she heard the tell-tale sound of Glimmer charging up the other side, and confirmed it with a quick flit of her eyes. 

She focused on the goalie, beginning to deke and draw his attention to one side. Just as she wound up for a shot, she passed the puck over quickly to Glimmer. The goalie realized too late what was happening, and as Glimmer’s stick hit the puck, it went sailing over the barely-extended blocker and into the net.

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

Just like that, with 8:14 to go in the period, they were a winning team again. 

The crowd went ballistic. Relief flooded over her, and as she skated over to hug Glimmer in celebration, Adora could feel the volume revererating in her ribcage. Bow joined them, patting their helmets affectionately as he grinned and laughed with them. 

Skating over past the bench, where she gratefully accepted the fist bumps her teammates offered, she caught Catra’s eye. She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it, opting instead for a small smile as Bow tapped her and pointed to where the other team was setting up at center ice for the faceoff. 

The rest of the shift flew by as she and her line held off an offensive rush by the Sorcerers. By the time she skated off, the time had ticked down about a minute or so, and she felt her heart start racing as she watched the clock go down. 

All they had to do was hold on, and they would have the chance to be national champions. 

An odd-man rush came up into the Rebellion defensive zone. Adora’s heart leapt into her throat. The center shot the puck hard at Scorpia’s stick side, and Adora felt time slow for a minute as Scorpia’s arm rose up to meet it. 

The crowd – Adora included – let out an audible sigh of relief as the puck hit Scorpia’s blocker and skittered away. Netossa quickly grabbed it, sliding it up to Spinnerella ahead of her, and suddenly they were out of danger again. 

By the time her line was about to on, the clock was stopped with just a minute to go in the game. Movement on the other side of the ice drew her eye, as– 

“Oh, _shit_ ,” She said, turning to Micah as another one of the forwards skated on, “They’re pulling the goalie.”

Micah’s voice was grave. “All we have to do is hold on. We can win this.” 

Making eye contact with Bow and Glimmer, Adora nodded. The three of them over the boards as the line before her skated back over. This faceoff was in her defensive zone, which meant they’d have to be careful. 

This time, the opposing center won the draw, and Adora kept a careful eye on where the puck was as the other team began to cycle it. She saw one of the players that had scored earlier beginning to set up near the slot, and skated over to him, tangling up his stick as Mermista battled along the boards with one of the Mystacor players. 

The clock read 00:56. 

A shot from the point hit Bow instead, and it was scooped up by another Sorcerer for a poorly-aimed rebound. The puck bounced away, easily stopped by one of Scorpia’s pads, and Sea Hawk sent it flying around the boards to where Glimmer was waiting on the other side. 

_49 seconds._

Glimmer passed it to Adora, narrowly avoiding a check from one of the Sorcerers, and Adora got a stick on it. She tried to clear the zone, aiming for the empty net, but the puck was picked up in the neutral zone by one of the Sorcerer’s defensemen. He skated up the ice as his line changed out, giving the Rebellion a chance to regroup. 

_38 seconds._

Bow tried to intercept a pass from the point, getting his stick on it and sending the puck bouncing in the wrong direction. Adora pushed past the forward she’d been tangling up with, retrieving it even as she felt one of the Mystacor players slam her up against the boards. She trapped it with her skate. Mermista skated over immediately, trying to dig the puck out from where Adora had it, as two more Sorcerers came up and started stabbing at her stick and skates from behind her.

_27 seconds._

A well-placed jab from Mermista bounced the puck free, sending it into open ice. As one of Mystacor’s forwards tried to set up a goalie screen, Glimmer came out of nowhere and pushed him out of the way. Another Sorcerer, one of the ones that had been fighting with them along the boards, sent a rocket of a shot at Scorpia. She caught it in her glove, sliding it to where Adora was skating behind the net. 

_14 seconds._

Spinning out of the way of one of the Mystacor players, Adora slid the puck over to Bow, who lost it after three guys began skating towards him. Around them, the crowd began to chant down from 10. 

One of the forwards fired a shot at the net that Adora blocked, feeling the impact through the pads on her chest. The puck dropped in front of her. Looking up, she realized it was a straight shot to the other end of the ice. As the Sorcerers began to charge her, she wasted no time taking a hard slapshot right for the empty net directly ahead.

Almost in slow motion, she watched as it sailed almost the length of the ice before sliding into the back of the net.

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

The buzzer sounded not even a second after the goal horn rang, and the arena practically exploded in cheers. Body after body thudded into her as the bench cleared out almost instantly. She felt Bow and Glimmer hug her first, then Swift Wind, then everyone else in quick succession, all victory yells and congratulations. As they swarmed over to her, sticks and gloves strewn idly while they hugged and cheered for each other, Adora felt relief wash over her in a huge wave. 

From the bench, Micah told them to come back over, and Adora reached out for Bow and Glimmer even as the rest of the team began to skate away. Part of her, the part that suddenly remembered their conversation from earlier was worried for a second. But now, as she held onto Glimmer’s shoulders and felt Bow’s arm slung across her own, she searched their faces and found nothing other than love and pride smiling back at her. When they pulled each other close for a three-way hug that was only a little clumsy, Adora knew they’d be okay in the end. 

The Bright Moon Rebellion – the team she, Bow, and Glimmer had spent years turning into a tightly bonded family – was going to the finals for the third year in a row. 

And they didn't intend to come away empty-handed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- forecheck: a physical way of applying pressure in the offensive zone to recover the puck after a turnover. it's a kind of checking.  
> \- backcheck: rushing back to the defensive zone in response to the other team gaining possession, often accompanied by trying to hit the puck through the other player's stick. can also be a kind of checking.


	5. the finals (part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora looks in the mirror. Catra remembers a story. Bow and Glimmer cause problems on accident. The team waits for the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! i know i originally had this story ending with this fifth chapter, but in writing it, it was just too big to publish at once. so i split it up between this, the more personal, feelings-related chapter, and the actual game, which is going to be our sixth and final (i mean it this time) chapter. i'm really attached to this fic and the universe created around it, so knowing that it's ending soon is bittersweet. as some of you have noticed, this is part of a series. i'm planning on uploading an epilogue after the final chapter is posted that will talk about what happens after the game is over.
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are appreciated, and you can drop me a line on tumblr @brightbolts. enjoy!

Needless to say, the locker room was absolutely _buzzing_ by the time Adora walked back inside. 

Micah and Angella were hugging each other tightly in the back of the room, and when the team saw Adora, the whole room erupted in cheers. The sight pulled a smile out of her against her will, and she waved off the ensuing compliments and congratulations with a shy, almost embarrassed hand.

After she sat down to start taking her gear off, Glimmer poked her in the ribs. “Ow!” Adora buckled inwards out of reflex, making an annoyed huff as she did. “What was that for?” 

“You did it!” Glimmer wasn’t even trying to restrain her glee, and slung an arm around her back.

Adora smiled at her. “ _We_ did it.”

Glimmer grinned. “I know. We’re so good at this,” She said, giving Bow a high-five next to her before turning back. “Adora, listen. About what we said on the ice–”

“You guys were right,” Adora interrupted, putting a hand on Glimmer’s shoulder. “I’ve been… reckless. I probably shouldn’t have risked that fight. And I want to talk more about it, I do, but... later. Is that okay?”

Bow reached around Glimmer to put a hand on Adora’s knee. “Of course.”

Adora saw a flicker of movement in the doorway, and looked over to see Catra leaning there, arms crossed over her chest. Adora wasn’t sure what to do, nor was she sure where they stood in terms of, well… their relationship. So she gave her a little wave, and after a moment, Catra gave her a tight smile before she pointed to where Micah was about to start talking.

 _Catra_. Adora was a little worried she’d fucked them up for good. Even though they’d been dangerously close to friendly all game, Adora couldn’t help the nervous, tight feeling that arose in her chest whenever she thought too hard about what would happen to them after the season was over. Back in Adora’s room, Catra had said that they would talk.

They hadn’t yet, obviously, and it was all Adora could think about. 

(Well, that and the way her face had looked when Adora had accidentally called her a distraction, the way she’d smiled almost involuntarily when she’d called Adora an idiot, and the way her eyes dipped down to look at Adora’s lips and had fluttered closed when they were about to–)

“Adora,” Glimmer said, waving a hand in front of her face. “You there?”

“Oh,” said Adora, blinking twice. She started to unlace her skates. “Yeah. What’s going on?”

“We’re going out for a celebratory drink. You in?”

She thought about it. _Hanging out with everyone could be fun,_ she thought. Then, she looked across the room to where Scorpia was clearly also inviting Catra along with them, and watched as Catra shrugged and nodded. _Shit. Never mind. I don’t want to make this awkward for her._

“Uh,” Adora said, eyes flicking back to Glimmer’s face. “Nah. Not this time. You guys go without me.”

Glimmer frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Go have fun.” She smiled, pulling off her shoulder pads. “I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

*** * ***

Although Adora had opted out of getting a drink after the game, Catra hadn’t been able to resist. And, honestly, after watching the game’s final moments with a nervous, fluttery feeling in her chest, she almost felt like she needed one to calm her down. 

Part of her was kind of glad Adora wasn’t coming, if only for the reason that it had been… a little weird between them during the game. They’d been friendly, of course, but there was this nervous tension running between them that both seemed afraid to touch. Which, Catra supposed, was partially her own fault, but she thought she’d been more than justified in her decision to leave after that clusterfuck of an almost-first-kiss. _Honestly. Who does that?_

Catra had never heard of the place they were going – some rooftop bar downtown called the _Dragon’s_ _Daughter_ – but Sea Hawk and Mermista swore by it, and the rest of the team seemed to share their judgement. Considering how much they bickered, the fact that they could agree on anything was enough for her to trust the decision.

Just as she was getting ready to leave, though, Micah called to her from the back of the room. “Hey, Catra. Can I talk to you for a second?”

She paused, confusion clear on her face, and looked to Scorpia for an answer. Scorpia shrugged helplessly. “Uh, sure,” said Catra, walking slowly over to him. 

From the doorway, Scorpia said, “I’ll wait outside for you, alright?” At Catra’s nod, she left the room to give them some privacy. 

Micah smiled at Catra as she neared. “I won’t keep you long, Catra. I just wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” She asked, genuinely confused. “I mean, you’re welcome, but... why?”

“Are you kidding?” He said, incredulity seeping into his voice. “Catra, you’re the reason we’ve made it as far as we have. Without the conditioning and techniques you’ve been leading us through, we would have lost that game.” Micah put a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever happens with the Horde next week, I want to make sure you know how much of an impact you’ve had on us. 

“And,” He said, letting a grin widen on his face, “I’d like to invite you back to help coach next year.”

Catra’s eyes had been progressively widening as he spoke, and now they were the size of saucers. She was too stunned to speak. Obviously, she’d hoped her work would mean something, and believed personally that she was doing a good job, but to hear the words come out of Micah’s mouth was another thing entirely. Every emotion she felt during the game – fear, anxiety, elation, pride, and anticipation, to name a few – began to boil inside her, spilling out in every direction. She felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Oh, God, okay. You’re crying,” said Micah, putting a hand on either side of her shoulders. “Are we that bad?”

Catra laughed wetly, wiping away the tears that had escaped. “No, I’m just– I would really like that.”

Micah gave her another warm smile before pulling her in for a hug. Now, she wasn’t _super_ used to being that close to men, but something about Micah put her at ease. He smelled like pine trees and something warm, she noticed. Like a fire on a winter night. Also, he was an _excellent_ hugger, and felt warm and solid without being suffocating. 

A few seconds after, she pulled away, wiping the back of her hand across her face haphazardly. “Um. Thank you.” It didn’t sound like enough when she said it. There was more, muchmore, that she wanted to say – _thanks for believing in me, thanks for trusting me, thanks for the hug –_ and yet she couldn’t get any of it out.

But Micah, who had spent years around young adults and had raised a child of his own (three, if you counted Bow and Adora, which he did), seemed to understand. He handed her a tissue. “Anytime, Catra. I know you want to get that drink, so I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll see you at practice.”

Nodding, Catra wiped away the rest of the wetness on her face and left the locker room, where Scorpia was leaning against a wall smiling at something on her phone. When she noticed Catra, her face lit up. “Oh, hey! How was it– wait, are-are you crying?”

“No,” Catra said defensively. “I don’t do that.”

“Right,” Scorpia said, clocking the puffy eyes, the watery voice, and the sniffles. “Do you need a minute before we leave?” 

Her voice was more gentle than Catra could handle, so she said, “Nah, I’m good,” and began walking towards the door. 

As they made their way through campus and the streets of Bright Moon, Catra could almost _hear_ Scorpia’s smile in her voice as she spoke. “Alright! Oh, _man_ , am I excited you’re coming with us. Post-game drinks are always the best,” She said, swinging herself by a lamppost. “It’s a little weird Adora isn’t coming, though. She usually does. And, y’know, she doesn’t always _drink_ , but she likes the vibe”

Catra tried not to clench her jaw. “Oh, yeah?” She asked, trying to sound disinterested. After all, she _was_ still mad. Even if she had to keep reminding herself to be. “That’s weird.”

“Yeah,” Scorpia said with a sigh. “Oh, well. Maybe she’s just saving it for the end-of-season party.”

Catra furrowed her brow. “You guys have one of those?”

“Are you _kidding_?” Scorpia asked, placing a hand over her heart in mock outrage. “Catra, it’s the biggest event of the year. It’s always done by a pair of graduating seniors, so this year Mermista and Sea Hawk are hosting in the house they’ve been renting. There are a few traditions we have, too, which…” Scorpia’s eyes widened. “...Which you now have to participate in!”

“Whoa, wait a minute, why do I–”

“You’re part of the team! Oh, boy. Oh, you’d better start thinking about which song you’re doing.”

 _Oh no._ Catra blanched.“A _song?_ What?”

“Team lip-sync! Everyone prepares a song, and we make a whole performance out of it,” said Scorpia, smiling with unrestrained glee. “Bow, Glimmer, and Adora did an ABBA song last year. They came up with choreography and matching costumes and everything.”

Catra’s head spun trying to imagine it. “Um. Okay. Wow.”

“It’ll be after the finals, so it’ll either be a celebration or a way to lick our wounds. Either way, be ready to drink!”

Thankfully, their arrival at the bar meant the end of that conversation, which spared Catra from having to respond. Rather than head inside, Scorpia led her to a door around back, pressing a button to call what Catra realized was a small elevator. When the doors opened, Scorpia waved her in with a flourish. “After you, my lady.”

Catra rolled her eyes, walking through the doorway. It was a short ride up, and when the doors opened, she saw the rest of the team immediately. Bow and Glimmer were doing a shot with Mermista at the bar, and Sea Hawk was singing (admittedly decent) karaoke and leaning dramatically against the piano, much to the distaste of its player. Netossa was leaning against Spinnerella as they faced out over the street, and Perfuma and Frosta had just noticed that the elevator was open.

“Oh! Hi, guys! I almost thought you wouldn’t come,” Perfuma said breathlessly, staring at Scorpia with wide eyes.

Scorpia smiled shyly, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of her neck. “No need to worry. We’re here now.” Perfuma’s eyes fluttered a little, and an awed smile grew on her face.

It was becoming increasingly clear to Catra that she was intruding on something. “I’m gonna grab a drink,” She announced loudly, watching as neither Scorpia nor Perfuma noticed, and opted instead to stare into each others’ eyes. 

Shaking her head, Catra walked over to where Bow and Glimmer were sitting. They had gotten an early start, she noticed, and were already slurring their words a bit by the time she got there. Bow noticed her first, and his eyes went almost comically wide. “CATRA! Glimmer, look!”

Glimmer spun in her chair, whipping her head around to get a better look and gasped. “We were jus’ talking about you!”

 _Never a good sign_. “All good things, I hope.” Catra flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink before turning back to them with a raised eyebrow. “You guys… doing okay?”

“Never better,” Bow said, cheeks rosy. “We were talking about–” His voice lowered, “–you an’ Adora. Your…. _relationship_ ,” He whispered, nodding conspiratorially. 

“Bow!” Glimmer smacked his arm, hissing, “No one’s supposed to know!”

“Oh. Um. It’s cool,” Catra said, suddenly bewildered. The bartender slid her a drink. “I-I know already.”

Bow raised a hand, looking at Glimmer with a triumphant expression. “See? She knows!”

“I didn’t know _you_ knew,” said Catra, taking a sip with a wince she hoped was imperceptible. “So… I guess she told you, huh?”

“Yeah. And, like, we’re _happy_ for you guys, but... ‘s kind of a bummer,” Glimmer said. “She’s been all mopey about it for _days_ now. Especially,” She paused to take a sip. “Considering she’s head over heels for you.”

Catra choked on her drink, sputtering a bit. “Hold on. What?” Her eyes were wide, and darted back between Bow and Glimmer.

“Oh, yeah,” Glimmer said, throwing back another shot with a wince. “Yeah. She had, like, a whole thing about it.” At Catra’s wide-eyed stare, she frowned. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Catra said, feeling a tingle run down her spine. “What kind of _whole thing_? I thought she just had a crush.”

“Are you KIDDING?” Glimmer practically shouted, attracting the attention of the people around them. “Catra, she went on this whole rant about how she wants to, like, bone you.”

“Okay, that is _not_ what she said,” Bow corrected, shaking his head. “Adora said she wanted to know you in her bones. _Very_ dramatic.” He took a sip of his drink. “Sounds like she’s in pretty deep.”

Catra stared at him, trying to fully process what she was hearing. “And she still told me we couldn’t be together? Why the fuck would she do that?”

Bow shrugged, making a vague _I-don’t-know_ sound. “Tha’s her business. She’s always been _suuuuper_ into putting other people before herself. Pro’lly thinks she has to for, like, _the team_.”

“That idiot,” Catra murmured. “Netossa and Spinnerella are together. Mermista and Sea Hawk are together. You two are–” She cut off, looking between them with a small, unsure frown. “...Together?” At Glimmer’s nod, she continued. “So what the fuck is stopping us?”

“She’s probably jus’ scared,” Bow said, swirling his finger in his drink idly. “I don’t think she’s ever been in love before.”

_What?_

“What?” Catra asked after a moment. 

“Oh, she’s totally in love with you.” Bow’s tone was matter-of-fact. He frowned. “Wait, you… I mean, you knew that already, right?”

Catra just stared open-mouthed at them.

Realizing too late what had happened, Bow said, “Oh, shit. We weren’t supposed to say that, were we?” He cringed, looking between Glimmer and Catra. “Okay, you know what? Just-just forget that happened. We were never here.” 

Catra put her drink back on the bar, mindlessly pulling out a few bills to pay for it. “I think I’m going to head out,” She croaked, eyes locked somewhere in the distance. “I’ll see you guys later.”

They called a few drunken goodbyes to her, but she didn’t acknowledge them. The doors of the elevator closed behind her, leaving her finally, blessedly alone. Her head felt full, like it was going to burst any moment. As she felt the ground beneath her feet begin its journey downward, she let herself scream again.

* * *

It was only after she left the locker room, re-declined the drink (Mermista could be very persistent), and made it safely back to her apartment that Adora allowed herself to start crying. Part of it – most of it, really – was out of sheer relief: they’d done it. She hadn’t fucked up their chances. The team would be okay. 

The other part was out of fear. This meant she’d have to face Shadow Weaver again, and would run the risk of losing to her. She couldn’t do that. She _wouldn’t_ do that.

Half-exhausted from the night, she went to her bathroom and splashed some water on her face, looking at her reflection in the mirror and cringing almost as soon as she saw it. 

There was already bruising on her face where the Mystacor goon had hit her, but the small cut on her cheekbone had stopped bleeding. That was good. It looked like it might need a few stitches, but she’d deal with that in the morning. _Plus,_ Adora thought, reaching up to touch it gently before wincing in pain, _chicks do dig scars._

After carefully wiping away the rest of the blood and retreating to her room, Adora sat on her bed for a moment. They had a week before the finals. It would be a home game, which would give them an advantage early on. That was good, Adora thought. They would need it, especially if that one player – Prime, if Adora remembered correctly – was on the ice. 

Distantly, she heard the door to the apartment open and close, followed by the sounds of Bow and Glimmer’s half-drunken whispers. _They think I’m asleep_ , Adora realized, noticing how the two were doing their best to tiptoe around the apartment. 

She looked at the clock. _1:43._ Pulling her shoes off as quietly as possible, Adora tried to sneak over to the door to shut it before they saw she was awake. Unfortunately, she tripped almost immediately on the bag she had dropped haphazardly on the floor, and fell to the ground with a muffled thud. 

_Shit._ Adora blinked in pain, groaning a bit in the back of her throat. 

In the apartment’s main room, she heard Bow and Glimmer stop their conversation, listening instead to the noise coming from her room. 

“Adora?” Bow’s comically loud whisper floated through the door. “Hey. Adora. ‘s that you?”

“If ‘s’not, and you’re a burglar, or something, we’ll ffffuck you up,” Glimmer added, more than a little drunkenly.

_Double shit._

Even though she knew they couldn’t see her, Adora rolled her eyes, and decided to just bite the bullet. “Yeah,” She called, hearing Bow jump a little at the noise. She walked out of her room, flicking on one of their dimmer lamps. “It’s just me, guys. How was the drink?”

“Ugh, it was _great_ ,” Glimmer said, prancing over to envelop Adora in one of her classic inebriated hugs, which Adora reciprocated absentmindedly. That meant she’d been doing shots. Wine Glimmer was sad, and Shots Glimmer was touchy-feely. Beer Glimmer was aggressive, and had once challenged her to a footrace before passing out on the floor. “We even saw Catra.”

At this, Bow’s eyes widened more than Adora thought possible as he shushed Glimmer loudly. “What? No, we didn’t,” He said, clearly trying to lie. “Who’s Catra? I don’t know anyone by that name.”

That wasn’t good. Drunk Bow – both of them, really, but especially Bow – was notorious for having loose lips, and had once told Mermista that Sea Hawk was the one that almost burned their house down. That, in turn, had led to a series of events culminating in the rest of the team making Sea Hawk drink the rest of the jungle juice as punishment. He’d thrown up four different times in the night, and blamed Bow ever since.

So, clearly, Bow was hiding something. Well, he was trying to, anyway. 

Adora narrowed her eyes. “Bow, what happened at the bar?”

“What? What bar?” His voice was high and reedy. “I-I’ve never been to a bar.”

Adora looked to Glimmer, who was still firmly wrapped around her torso, and had begun to play with her hair. “What isn’t he telling me?”

“Oh, that?” Glimmer asked absently, resting her head against Adora’s chest. “We told Catra you were in love with her.”

Adora stiffened, feeling her blood turn to ice. “You did _what_?”

“It was an accident!” Bow cried, apology clear in his voice. “We didn’t even mean to, and then–”

“I don’t– how did _you_ know I was in love with her?” Adora’s voice rose. “ _I_ didn’t know I was in love with her!”

Glimmer scoffed. “C’mon, Adora. You went on that whole fuckin’ rant about it.”

“That’s–” _Shit_ , Adora realized. _I did do that._ “Oh, fuck. Am I in love with her?”

Bow shrugged helplessly, eyes still wide. “Does being around her make you happy?”

 _Yes. Always._ “Yeah. I guess.”

“Do you miss her when she’s not around?”

 _Yes. Always._ “I dunno. Sometimes.”

“Okay, well… I don’t know. Do you want to love her?”

Adora frowned. “What kind of question is that?”

“A fair one,” Bow said, raising his eyebrows. “If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that you have to work at love to keep it steady. You know, you-you gotta make a real, conscious choice to do it.”

Adora hadn’t considered that. To be fair, she didn’t have a ton of experience with love to start with– well, if you excluded Bow, Glimmer, and the team. She loved them so much her heart felt like it would burst when she thought about it. _Romantic love, though?_ She turned the idea over in her mind. 

_Making a conscious choice,_ she thought. _So it’s an active thing. Like working out or training a muscle. That means I just have to be willing to put in the work._

"Yes." After a moment, Adora nodded, almost surprised at herself. “Yeah. I do want to love her.”

“Great,” Glimmer mumbled against her chest. “Congratulations. You love her on purpose.”

Adora knew she should be freaking out. Her experience with romantic love mainly came from movies, and in all the movies she’d seen, that’s what the protagonist usually did when they realized they were in love. There was usually a big, dramatic confrontation, and the leads always looked like they were about to cry. 

Somehow, all she felt now was relief.

“And you’re okay with that?” Bow asked cautiously, and Adora could tell he felt guilty about the whole situation. 

Adora smiled. “I am,” She said. “Yeah. It’s weird, I– it feels like…” She struggled for a minute to find the words. “It feels like I’m… I don’t know, finally coming home after a long time away. Is that what it’s supposed to feel like?”

Bow looked at where Glimmer was starting to sway back and forth. “I think so,” said Bow, smiling. “For me, it was like I’d been waiting my whole life for a puzzle piece to click into place. Then one day I... realized I had to put it together myself.”

Glimmer turned around to look at him with a small blush on her face. “Aww, Bow! You never told me that!”

He shrugged, reaching out a hand to her. “I figured you knew.” Bow pulled her towards him, and Adora watched as Glimmer wrapped her arms around his waist. 

“You’re a sap,” She said, smiling at him before standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

Looking down, Adora smiled to herself before wishing them goodnight. They didn’t seem to notice, but that was okay. 

From the walk back to her room all the way into her bed, she felt her heart ache a little from how much she wanted. Hell, Adora wasn’t even sure _what_ she wanted. She wasn’t used to the feeling. All she could think about was Catra, with her mismatched eyes, smirks, and short, beautiful hair. 

Maybe she _was_ sure what she wanted, actually. She closed her eyes, letting her mind wander. 

Adora thought of making breakfast for the two of them after a long night, of watching Catra leave her room– _their_ room in one of Adora’s old shirts, and of kissing her against the counter before pressing a mug of coffee into her hands. She thought of movie nights, cuddled up under blankets together. She thought of wandering hands that led their attention to somewhere other than the TV in front of them. 

With a low groan, Adora realized it was now past two in the morning. _Shit_ , she thought. She was planning on going to the rink the next morning. She’d need to get at least five hours of sleep for that. Trying to close the floodgates on the thoughts that were now pouring out of her, Adora turned over and did her very best to fall asleep.

*** * ***

_Screaming in the elevator should be a form of therapy at this point_ , Catra thought as she laced up her skates in the early morning light. _First at Adora’s apartment building before the Mystacor game, then last night at the bar._ _I should keep a running tally._

Was it a little unconventional? Maybe. But it had made her feel _much_ better. By the time the doors opened to the empty street below the bar, for example, she’d been able to take a breath and think a bit more rationally about the situation she and Adora had landed themselves in. 

The next morning, while she had walked from her apartment to the rink, shifting her skate bag from hand to hand, she’d remembered a tip from her first therapist. Catra, who had always had issues with spiraling and running away, had asked her what to do when her thoughts got to be _too much_. Her therapist, in one of the most useful tips she’d ever heard, advised her to group them by theme and tackle them individually rather than deal with them all at once. 

As she stepped onto the ice, she closed her eyes for a moment and tried to organize her thoughts into three main sectors.

First, and most importantly, Adora was in love with her.

Secondly, Adora, who was in love with her, had freely admitted the week before to wanting to kiss her and do _other_ _things_ , which Catra had been shamelessly fantasizing about for weeks now. 

And finally, Adora _loved her_ (capital-L loved her, according to Bow and Glimmer) and wanted to be with her, but couldn’t for weird, self-sacrificing reasons she wasn’t sure she’d ever fully understand. That led her to an immediate conclusion. 

Catra was in love with her, too. 

The realization made her come to a stop at center ice, heart racing from what she told herself was exertion.

She wasn’t sure when she had first known it – maybe somewhere between the first time she fell asleep on Adora’s couch only to wake up safely tucked into her bed and feeling her stomach drop when she watched Adora take that first punch to the face yesterday night – but sure enough, there it was. 

And, honestly, maybe it wasn’t love in the traditional sense – Catra wasn’t sure what it was supposed to feel like – but she knew being around Adora made her happy. She slept better when Adora stayed over, even if it was on her couch in the other room. She was more at ease around her. She knew she could laugh or cry or joke or rant to her and she wouldn’t be seen any differently. She felt _known_ in a way she was thoroughly unused to.

Starting another run through an old competition routine, Catra suddenly remembered one of the myths covered in their shared ancient mythology lecture. It was Greek, she thought. Humans were originally born with four arms, four legs, and two faces. They’d been perfect. But Zeus had been afraid of their power. He’d split them into two different people, condemning them forever to find the other half of their pair. 

If that was true, it meant love felt like a reunion. 

(A memory popped into Catra’s head. 

On one of the days they were set to talk strategy after practice, Adora had come back to her apartment later than usual– a meeting with Angella about her knee, if she remembered correctly – and told Catra to wait for her there. _Welcome home,_ she’d said from the couch. _It’s been so long_. 

Adora had laughed at that and grinned in the lopsided way she reserved for when they shared a joke. _Reunited at last_ , she’d said, sitting down next to her. _I have so much to tell you._ )

So, okay. Maybe Catra was in love. 

_That_ was a revelation. Part of her was grateful this whole thing had come into her life when it did. If it had happened to her a year earlier, she would have perceived the whole situation very differently, and probably been _furious_ at Adora for what she’d have viewed as leading her on just to shut her down. 

But, luckily for her, it hadn’t. Now, Catra saw Adora’s actions for what they were – selfless to a fault and ingrained into her from years of putting the needs of others before her own – and that made it hard to stay mad at her.

Because on one hand, it wasn’t fair to either of them that the playoffs – the _finals_ , now – demanded so much. Catra was more than a little angry that she couldn’t just kiss Adora and go from there. But she’d seen the way Adora got before, during, and after games, when she was overtaken by nerves and second-guessing. Catra knew deep down that if they had kissed – or more – they wouldn’t be able to focus on each other the way they’d want to, because they’d be spread too thin. 

As much as it annoyed Catra to admit, the thought of the championship finals weighed heavy on both of their minds, and... Adora had a point. It was a _stupid_ point, but it was a point. Part of her was (and would probably continue to be) frustrated with her for _always_ picking other people over herself, which Catra realized was starting to become something of a theme for her. 

(But the other part, the part that was beginning to imagine a real, concrete future for the two of them? Well, that part was starting to forgive her.)

She was so consumed in thought that it had taken the time of a few warm-up laps for her to realize she didn’t have her headphones. With a groan, she turned around with the intent to skate back over to the bench. Instead, she stopped short, a confused frown taking her face as she saw, standing at the bench– 

“Adora?” Catra asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She tried to ignore how her heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?” 

Adora’s stare morphed into a look of confusion and hesitation. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I said I had to think, remember?” Catra gestured around them. “This is how I’m thinking.”

“Oh,” Adora said, shifting her stick from hand to hand. “Okay. Um. Me too.” Catra could practically feelthe nervous energy radiating off of her. “Hey, listen, I don’t have to- I can leave. I know you like skating alone.”

“I do,” She said plainly. Catra remembered the first time they’d met, with circumstances so similar and yet so different, and the thought brought a small smile to her face. In front of her, she watched Adora try and fail to hide her disappointment as her face fell. Catra could feel her resolve weakening by the second. “But I don’t mind sharing for a day.”

Hope spread slowly across Adora’s face. “Are you sure?” The words had weight, and hung in the air around them.

“Yeah,” Catra said, answering both the spoken and unspoken question. “I am.” She turned to continue her routine, holding her earbud in her hand, but something stopped her from putting it in. 

Well, _something_ wasn’t the right word. Catra knew exactly what was stopping her, and she felt like if she didn’t say it, they’d just spend the rest of their time together drowning in that same awkward tension.

With a deep breath, Catra reminded herself that she could do this, and turned back to where Adora was beginning to lace up her skates. She moved in slow, graceful, strides over to the bench, coming to a stop at the boards. “Adora, listen,” She said, watching Adora’s head snap up. “I just wanted to say… I’m not super happy about it, but I’ve done, like, a _lot_ of thinking about it, and… I want to be with you. Even if it means waiting a few more days.”

Adora’s eyes widened, searching Catra’s face for any sign that she didn’t mean the words. “Catra, I– you know you don’t have to do this, right? You deserve someone you don’t _have_ to wait for.”

“Okay, well, it’s not like you’re going to war. It’ll be, like, six days tops. Trust me, I’ll survive,” Catra said, feeling a smile spread across her face at Adora’s laugh. “And, honestly… I was mad at first, because I thought you were picking the team over… well, me. Over being happy.”

“And now?” Adora didn’t bother to hide the uncertainty she felt.

“Well, part of me still thinks that, and I think your friends agree, but, honestly…” Catra sighed. “Now, I just think you’re trying to pick me in the only way you can.” She shrugged. “For six days, I can live with it.”

“You mean that?” Adora asked, voice barely above a whisper. At Catra’s nod, she swallowed thickly. “I–thank you, Catra.”

She nodded silently and reached a hand out between them. 

Adora took it, holding it like a lifeline in the air. After a moment of watching their joined hands, Catra cleared her throat. “Yeah, well, between the two of us…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “You’re worth the wait.” The words were soft-spoken and genuine. Adora finally seemed to relax, and pressed a gentle kiss to Catra’s knuckles. 

“Now come on,” Catra said, jerking her chin towards where Adora’s stick lay against the boards. “Let’s see some shots, Cap. We have a national championship to win.”

*** * ***

The days passed more quickly than Adora was expecting them to, and it seemed like the week went by in the blink of an eye. Between her classes, practice, and the looming threat of Saturday’s game, her head was full.

Adora had paid attention during their practice the day before, of course. Catra had pulled up the footage from the Horde’s semifinal game against the team from Dryl, highlighting their unrelenting offense and pointing out the same weaknesses that had existed in their last game. Sure enough, they weren’t quite unified. _And that,_ Catra had said, _is something we’re not lacking. Find it. Exploit it._

Between that, her time on the ice a few days prior, and the months of training she’d done all season, Adora knew the team was prepared. And yet, starting from the moment her alarm woke her up at 4:30 on the day of the game, there was nothing that seemed to be able to quell the nervous energy she felt building up. 

She’d gone to the rink that morning (as per usual) and had been tracked down by Bow and Glimmer (as per usual), and by the time they finished their run, her nerves were still in full swing. In the end, Glimmer had suggested they go back to the Beacon. It was as good a suggestion as any, Adora figured, and Razz – the old and absolutely _bonkers_ woman who ran the kitchen – always knew to make her protein pancakes.

Sliding into their favorite booth – up against the windows with a good view of the street, but not too close to the door – Bow let out a sigh of relief as he stretched out his legs. “Is it just me, or do those runs get longer every time?”

Glimmer smacked him lightly on the shoulder, getting him to scoot over, and responded, “We went five miles today. That’s pretty good. I mean, I feel like sprints would–”

“Help us more with explosiveness,” Bow and Adora finished in unison. It was a sentiment Glimmer had brought up many, _many_ times. “We know,” Adora said, waving to Light Hope as she walked over. 

(Light Hope was always kind to them, which Adora was grateful for, but she was definitely a little weird. 

Towards the beginning of her time on the team, Adora had gone to her for advice more times than she could count. Even if that advice was always a little vague, she was usually right in some capacity. 

It was _also_ always weirdly prophetic. One time, after a long talk about hockey strategy, Adora had jokingly asked if she had any tips for passing her organic chem final too. Light Hope just stared at her until she told her to spend extra time on amino acids. Sure enough, that was the whole back page of the test. It was scary.

Plus, after being in a course about ancient myths, Adora had heard more than a few stories of prophecies gone horribly wrong. Suffice it to say she’d gone to Light Hope less and less in the past few months.)

“Hello,” Light Hope said in her characteristic monotone. Adora always figured it was because it was still early in the morning, but she was never quite sure. “What can I get for you today?”

They ordered their usuals: for Glimmer, a short stack with two fried eggs on the side; for Bow, a spinach and feta omelet with a side of hashbrowns; and for Adora, four scrambled eggs and three protein pancakes. 

After they got their food, they normally relaxed, ate, and swapped stories from the week. Today, Adora didn’t feel much like relaxing. 

“Hey,” Glimmer said, putting a hand on her wrist, “You alright? You’ve barely touched your food.” Sure enough, the plate was almost undisturbed. The topmost pancake had blueberries in it, Adora noticed. They were arranged in a smiley face. She reminded herself to thank Razz the next time she saw her. 

Adora shook her head as if to clear it physically. “Yeah. Sorry, just… just a little nervous.”

“Totally understandable,” Bow said, cutting off a neat square of omelet. “I mean, you’re reacting to the trauma of a previous injury and the events surrounding it while also encountering uncharacteristic stress in what’s become one of your most important interpersonal relationships. Plus, to top it all off, you have the external pressure of winning a national championship to deal with.” He looked up to see Glimmer and Adora staring at him.

“Bow, _please_ turn the psych major off every so often,” Glimmer groaned. 

Bow cringed. “Oh, sorry. I just finished up a paper, so I’m really in the zone right now.”

“Shit. I mean– you’re right, Bow, obviously,” Adora said, pushing a piece of pancake around her plate. “It’s just... kind of overwhelming, I guess.”

“Mf _corph_ if ivz!” Glimmer said around a mouthful of food. She swallowed, clarifying, “Adora, of _course_ it is. But we’re here for you. I don’t know if there’s anything we can do with Catra, and, honestly, we’ve probably done enough to make that harder on you both already, but as far as the team goes…” She squeezed Adora’s hand. “That’s _our_ responsibility too.”

Bow nodded, smiling warmly at her. “We got your back, Cap. You know that, right? If you need _anything_ , we’re there for you.” His smile cracked just a bit. “But there is something we’ve been wanting to talk to you about. Like, _really_ talk to you about.”

“It’s the fighting, isn’t it?” Adora asked, not looking up from her pancakes.

“It is,” Bow said gently. “We just want to make sure you know that…” He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. “It doesn’t always have to be you. You don’t always have to take hits for us and bleed for us and whatnot. That’s not your job.”

Adora shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I know. I just–”

“I don’t know if you _do_ , Adora,” Glimmer said, frowning. “You’re worth more to this team than what you can do for us. You’re worth more than the goals, the assists, the fights… You’re our captain.” She reached out and took Adora’s hand in both of hers. “And we should have been doing more to reinforce that for you instead of… I dunno, glorifying it. I mean, shit, your face still isn’t fully healed from last weekend.” 

It was true. The cut on her cheekbone _had_ required stitches, as it turned out, and the angry red line there was now laced through with black thread. There had been bruising on her face for days afterward, too. It hurt to think about. 

Adora could hear Glimmer getting a little choked up, which made tears prick at her own eyes. “I guess I-I’m sorry for not realizing and understanding that sooner.”

Adora was, on some level, aware of these things. But something about hearing them said out loud made her want to cry. Her throat started to burn, and she took a sip of water before trying to swallow past it. “I forgive you,” She said, giving them a smile. “And I-I know. Thank you, guys, I-I needed to hear that.”

Bow smiled at her. “And we’re not telling you to stop fighting. We talked about it, and we know it’s a big thing for you. But you don’t always have to.”

“And, honestly,” Glimmer said, picking up her fork to point at Adora, “For your own health, you maybe shouldn’t. I’m kind of astounded your skull hasn’t cracked yet.”

That got a watery laugh. “I hold the record for world’s hardest head.”

Glimmer’s lips quirked up in a smile before she shook her head. “Seriously, though. You’ve had a lot of injuries this season. Take it easy next year.”

“I will,” Adora said, almost surprised at how much she believed the words. “Thank you, guys. For caring about me so much. It, um… it means a lot.” She could hear her voice thickening, and could feel her throat closing up, so she took a bite of her pancakes, chewing and swallowing past the dryness in her mouth. “Oh, um, Glimmer, is your aunt gonna be here tonight?” 

The dynamic of Glimmer’s extended family was such that any comment about one member would set off a whole tirade involving at least two more, so when Bow or Adora needed a quick subject change, they would pick an appropriate one and let Glimmer talk to them for no less than 20 minutes about family vacations and catty drama. 

Today, the topic was Castaspella, Glimmer’s aunt. If Adora remembered correctly, she was Mystacor’s head coach, and always took her games against Micah and Angella very personally. Glimmer hadn’t told them what she’d done after their semifinal game, which Adora was partly grateful for. 

Sure enough, Glimmer leaned forward, bringing her hands up in the way that always meant she had something to _say_. “Okay. So, yes, she is,” She said, looking between Bow and Adora. “But she doesn’t want to get dinner with us while she’s here, because she ‘ _doesn’t want to bring the energy down.’_ It’s ridiculous. Oh my _God_ , did I tell you about what she did last time?”

This was just what she needed. 

Adora leaned in closer, asking “What?” in a voice she hoped was appropriately scandalized. There was always something about hearing Glimmer’s family drama that made her feel like everything would be okay. She allowed a content smile to slip onto her face, reacting to recent news with gasps, laughter, and “oh, shit” where the conversation called for it. 

Across the table, Bow met her eyes and raised his eyebrows, asking silently if she was really okay. She answered with a lopsided, genuine smile and a small nod before turning back to Glimmer. 

Even as she listened, she could feel her nerves begin to melt away, replaced by anticipation in her chest. 

It was going to be a hell of a game.


	6. the finals (part two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora loses a tooth. Catra meets a ghost from the past. The team plays to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! i'm both proud and a little bummed to present this last chapter of sticks and stones. it's been an incredible journey, and i'm sad that this part of it is ending.
> 
> when i posted the first chapter of this fic, i wasn't expecting it to get any attention. i thought it was too weird and inaccessible, that it wouldn't resonate with anyone who read it, and i was okay with that. but over and over, from the moment i first hit post, you guys have proven me wrong. seeing everyone's reactions and reading comment after comment filled with love and praise (from people who love hockey to people who've never watched a sport willingly in their life) has been overwhelming and amazing. so i want to thank you for staying with it, for sharing this fic with other people, and for your endless care and support.
> 
> thank you to alex, who i met because of this fic and haven't stopped talking to since, for keeping me inspired and ready to write more about these two idiots. thank you to mj, for sharing my love of the sport and drawing a beautiful piece of art for this fic. 
> 
> and thank you to kai, who hasn't seen the show or read this fic, but who's been endlessly patient in answering my 2am questions about structure, has listened to me talk about it for hours on hikes and over text, and who appreciates my over-the-top depiction of love in writing. 
> 
> without further ado, i present the championship game.

Catra could feel her nerves bubbling in her chest the closer they got to the game. Which was ridiculous, she thought, considering she wasn’t even playing in it.

Then again, judging by the _BEAT FZ_ posters and pink-and-purple school flags set up everywhere she looked, she wasn’t the only one. The Horde had arrived in Bright Moon the night before, and had their morning skate a few hours after the Rebellion had. 

Tension and nerves on the ice ran thick, of course, and there had been more than a few sloppy mistakes the team had made for no other reason than to get them out early. 

_Micah looks nervous, too,_ she thought, watching him tug at his collar and tie. Next to him, Angella rolled her eyes before reaching out to straighten it for him. _He wants this just as bad as we do_.

The bench was buzzing, too. The first period was going to start any moment, and Adora, Bow, and Glimmer were all engaged in low conversation on their side of the ice while the Horde stood opposite them in silence. The arena was packed to the rafters, of course. Even now, as the refs and linesmen talked amongst themselves, the noise of the crowd was almost deafening. 

Finally, a ref took the puck, and the teams set up at center ice. Catra watched as Adora locked eyes with the Horde center, who – if she remembered correctly – was on their second line. They had done this last time, too. _This time, it’s not going to work._

The puck dropped in slow motion, and just like that, the game had begun. 

Adora drew her stick back, and the puck slid back to where Bow waited. He took it easily, narrowly dodging one of the Horde players in what Catra recognized with pride as the spin she’d taught them, and dumped the puck into the offensive zone where it flew around the boards. 

The teams chased it, but Glimmer was first to get to it. Just as one of the Horde players skated up to slam her into the boards, she sent it across the ice to Mermista. Retreating, Mermista set up near the point and passed hard to where Adora had set up in one of the corners.

With a powerful wind-up followed by a lightning-fast shot, Adora fired a one-timer into an open stretch of net – where it was just barely snatched out of the air by the goalie’s glove. The crowd audibly deflated. Catra could see Adora groan as the whistle sounded, and they went to the nearest faceoff dot to begin again. 

She could see the Horde center saying something to Adora, but couldn’t make out what it was. From the way the other players on the line laughed, she assumed it wasn’t good. The Horde won the draw, sending the puck to one of the defensemen as the Rebellion began to double back, skating backwards up the ice with what Catra saw was impeccable technique. 

The Horde’s forwards fell into a line, skating with power up the ice. Just like she’d thought, only one of their players had the puck. _Come on,_ she thought, watching nervously as Bow came to a quick stop in the slot. He started skating quickly toward them, and seemingly out of nowhere, he laid a massive check on the Horde center. Behind him, Adora grabbed the puck, dodging the stick of the wing, and just like that, they were back in business. 

She flew up the ice, looking at where the defensemen got in position in front of the net. Catra saw Glimmer coming up the other side almost effortlessly. 

Adora spun, deking around them, before faking a shot that Catra watched become a hard pass to Glimmer’s waiting stick on the other side. As the crowd began to raise in volume, Glimmer roofed the puck so fast the goalie didn’t have time to react. 

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

The crowd exploded, and the arena was filled with noise and cheers. The scoreboard read 1-0, but they were only two minutes or so into the game. There was a lot more to be played. 

*** * ***

By the end of the first period, Adora could feel her nerves bubbling up in her chest again. They’d scored the first goal of the game on their first shift, which was, by all accounts, pretty fucking excellent. 

Unfortunately, the Horde had come back and potted three by the time the buzzer sounded. 

The first was during a power play, when Glimmer had been given two minutes for slashing a Horde player after he tripped Bow without a call (and claimed all the way into the box that he deserved it). 

Adora had been on the ice with Bow, Netossa, and Spinnerella, and had blocked a shot with her chest, but hadn’t been fast enough to get rid of the rebound, and the goal horn had rung. The crowd, equal parts Fright Zone and Bright Moon fans, had been devastatingly loud for two different reasons, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the guilt she felt. 

The second had come in the final seconds of the period. She wasn’t on the ice, which she was partially grateful for. Their second line had been on the ice against the Horde’s top line, and had been fighting them wherever they could for offensive chances. Frosta, however, had turned the puck over after a dirty (unpenalized) check against the boards, which had led to a breakaway and subsequent goal by the Horde. 

The third was Prime’s doing, and had come from a hard slapshot at the point that Scorpia just barely missed with her glove.

Speaking of Scorpia, she was currently beside herself in the locker room, and Adora saw Perfuma gently rubbing her back and whispering soothing things to her. Their fingers were tangled together. She frowned. _When did that happen? Whatever_ , she thought, sitting down to stretch and roll her shoulders. _Not the time._

Next to her, Bow sat down gingerly. “Hey, Cap.” He pulled off his helmet. “Don’t worry about it. We have another 40 minutes to go.”

“I know,” Adora said, hearing the uncertainty in her voice. “We can do this, right?”

“Of course we can.”

At the front of the room, Micah began to speak. “Listen up. We’ve been working towards this for years– or, in my case, decades. And I know we’re playing a damn good team out there…” He said, taking a deep breath, “...But so are they. Don’t let them get cocky on you. You earned your spot here, just like they did.” He paused. “We’re going out there to win. Do you hear me?”

The team nodded, looking to one another. “Good,” He said, clapping his hands together. “Then let’s see some fucking _hockey_ , boys. Give ‘em hell.”

As her teammates hooted and hollered, Adora smiled to herself. Micah had never been the best at motivational speeches, but he believed in them. For her, that was enough. 

Looking around as the locker room descended into murmurs and conversation, she spotted Catra talking to Angella about something. _That’s weird,_ she thought, frowning. Normally, Catra and Micah were the ones who spoke. Catra looked worried about something, though, and her eyes kept flicking over to the door to the Horde locker room. 

Suddenly, Micah moved into her field of view. “Adora, can I talk to you for a second?” 

She frowned. “Yeah. Of course. Is everything okay? I know we’re losing, and I have a plan. I just–”

“Relax.” His voice was soothing. “I just wanted to say…” Micah hesitated for a second before putting a warm hand on Adora’s shoulder. “No matter what happens tonight, I’m proud of you, Adora. You’ve turned this team into a force of nature, and win or lose, today just proves that.” 

A slow, sincere expression crept across his face. “You’re the best captain I’ve ever had. Watching you grow from that nervous, scared freshman into a confident, national-championship-playing captain has been one of the greatest joys of mine and Angella’s life. And I’m… I’m really glad Glimmer has you as one of her friends.” He got a little choked up, which made Adora get choked up. “And even after you graduate next year… well. You know you’re always welcome with us.”

Adora found herself blinking away tears. “Um. Thank you, Micah. Really.” She nodded, trying to swallow through the lump burning in her throat. “That-that means a lot to me.”

Micah just nodded, swallowing thickly. “Of course, Adora. I’ll leave you alone.” Before he left, he gave her another smile. 

As Adora blinked back tears, trying to corral the thoughts buzzing around her head of _Catra--Horde--Shadow Weaver--Micah_ that were playing on loop, she felt a warm hand at her shoulder. She looked over to see Scorpia giving her a sad, apologetic look. “Hey, Cap,” She said. “I-I just wanted to apologize for letting all those goals in. Now, I know it’s not my best work, but it’s been a huge honor doing this with you guys, and–”

“Scorpia,” interrupted Adora, “You’re doing a fucking _amazing_ job. You let a few goals in. That’s alright. All it means,” She said, standing to pull Scorpia in for a hug, “Is that we have to get ‘em back. And between the two of us, I think we can manage that.”

They pulled apart, and Scorpia gave her a big, watery smile. “Thanks, Cap.” She sniffled. “Hey, I’m gonna see She-Ra out there, right?”

Adora nodded, hoping she looked more confident than she felt. “Of course. Would it really be a game without her?”

Truthfully, by the time the buzzer rang and started the second period, Adora was having a hard time getting into She-Ra’s zone. Normally, she’d have been given cause to get angry, but now all she felt was concern. She hadn’t even _seen_ Shadow Weaver yet, but knowing she was there only served to make her more nervous. 

The second line started the period off for them, which meant Bow, Glimmer, and Adora were sitting on the bench watching. Frosta won the draw and sent the puck over to where Perfuma was waiting on the side of the circle. 

Perfuma carried it up the side, narrowly dodging a Horde player’s attempt to check her, before passing behind her to Mermista. As their line made it into the offensive zone, Adora could feel her heart begin to race again. Mermista got caught up along the boards, and passed the puck to Swift Wind before the Horde could battle her for it. 

Swift Wind had an open lane, and he missed no chance to take the shot. Feeling her heart climb into her throat, Adora watched as the goalie batted it aside with his stick. _Shit_. 

The puck, now loose, fell to a Horde defenseman, who sent it barreling up the ice. Watching as the teams began to chase it, Adora felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Micah’s eyes still firmly locked on the ice. “You’re on in 30 seconds. Don’t let them get another goal, alright?” 

Nodding, she saw Catra watching her from the side of the bench. Adora gave her a little wave when they made eye contact, to which Catra rolled her eyes goodnaturedly and pointed back to the ice. _Watch the game_ , she mouthed. 

Seeing Catra’s face made her feel better, even if it was only for a short while, and she smiled despite her nerves. As Sea Hawk battled a forward along the boards, she felt that same nauseating anxiety building in her chest, counting down the seconds in her head before her line was on. 

The Horde ended up with the puck, sending a quick pass over to a waiting forward in the slot. As he wound up his stick, sending a missile right at Scorpia, the team watched with bated breath as she grabbed it almost effortlessly out of the air, earning a whistle from the referee. Adora let out a breath, nodding to where Micah was signaling her line onto the ice. 

Skating over to set up at one of the faceoff circles in her own zone, Adora found herself face to face with a _very_ angry-looking Horde player. _#23_ , she noticed. _Wait, is that the one–_

“Remember me?” He growled, leaning in. “I’m going to fucking _kill_ you, princess.”

“That’s a little presumptuous,” Adora blurted, unable to stop herself. “Considering how bad I kicked your ass last time. You sure that’s a good idea?” 

Truthfully, Adora was too nervous to fight someone right now, but she didn’t want to let him know that. She thought about what else she could do. #23 wanted a fight, and was currently stewing in front of her. That was clear. She wasn’t planning on fighting him back, which meant… _Now there’s something._

In the seconds before the ref dropped the puck, her stray thoughts coalesced into a half-baked plan.

The puck was dropped, and as she sent it behind her, Adora heard it thud against the boards. Just as planned, #23 threw his gloves down almost instantly, pushing her back against the boards and bringing his fist down against her face hard. She was grateful for the small amount of protection her helmet and visor provided, even if it did nothing to really stop his knuckles from cracking across her jaw once, then twice. 

Behind her (in front of her? she wasn’t sure), a whistle sounded, stopping play.

 _Good. Only a few more seconds._ She stood steady, making no move to stop him, and held firmly onto her gloves and stick even as pain blossomed on her face. Behind her, she heard Bow and Glimmer yelling angrily to the linesman, and they helped him pull the guy off of her. She could taste blood in her mouth, and spit a red glob onto the ice. Adora moved her jaw a few times experimentally. 

Adora’s face hurt like a bitch, of course, but she wasn’t bleeding too badly. That was good. She didn’t want any more stitches. “Sorry, babe,” She said, watching as #23 was firmly escorted away from her. “Not in the mood. Enjoy your time out, though!” 

As the ref skated to center ice to give #23 an instigator penalty, Bow and Glimmer were on her almost instantly. “Adora, can you hear me? Are you okay?” Glimmer’s eyes flicked, worried, between her own. “How many fingers am I–”

“I’m _fine_ , Glimmer. I can take much worse than that.” Adora tried to hide a wince as Glimmer gently touched her jaw where #23 had hit her.

“Why didn’t you hit him back?” Bow asked, eyes locking onto the bruising she knew would be on her face for the next few days.

“And give up a power play? Absolutely not.” Adora gave them a lopsided smile, ignoring how it reignited the pain on her face. “Plus,” She said, the smile slipping off her face as she leaned closer, “Between us, I-I’m not really in the zone.”

“Wait,” Bow said, furrowing his brow. “No She-Ra? What’s going on?”

Adora shook her head and shrugged. “I’m having a hard time bringing her out right now. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just nervous.” Above her, she heard the crowd start cheering again, and she saw the power play clock appear next to the game timer. “Come on. We gotta get set up.”

Her faceoff was against one of the other players on the Horde’s top line, and wasn’t someone she recognized. She won the draw easily, sending the puck over to Bow and skating around the Horde in order to make it into their offensive zone. Adora set up in front of the net as a screen, trying to keep the goalie from seeing the puck through her, and was almost instantly met with the sight of a Horde defenseman sneering at her and trying to tangle up her stick with his own. 

_Oh. This can’t be good._

Trying to focus on the game, she saw Bow carrying the puck up the side of the ice, dodging the other players easily, and watched him send it over, hard and fast, to where Glimmer was set up on the other end of the ice. 

She deked, executing a perfectly-placed toe drag to avoid the Horde player trying to steal the puck, and sent a lightning-fast wrister right to where Adora was positioned in front of the net. Adora untangled her stick from the defender’s next to her and brought it up to try and deflect the puck in. 

Then, she felt unexpected forward motion as the Horde player shoved her hard enough to send her flying out of the crease. The puck bounced off of one of the posts with a _ding_. Her pads took most of the blow, but she felt a dull pain where her body hit the ice.

 _No whistle_ , she thought in mild irritation, getting to her feet with a grunt. _Gotta keep moving._

Getting to her feet, she looked around, and spotted Glimmer where she was battling for the puck along the boards. They outnumbered the Horde, and Adora knew they could capitalize on any opportunity if given the chance. 

_Come on_ , she thought, skating over from the other side of the zone. _Come on_.

She set up by the point, keeping a careful eye on the Horde around her. They were traveling towards Glimmer, she noticed, which meant she had an opening. The puck sprang loose. Almost instantly, Bow got a stick on it and sent it flying over to Adora. 

Adora had a clear, straight shot to the goal, but she knew it wouldn’t last. Winding up, she brought her stick down, hard, on the ice, watching it rocket off of her stick and towards the net ahead.

Time always stood still in these moments, when the crowd’s noise melted away and all she could focus on was the puck traveling towards the net. 

Adora watched, locked in place, as it flew – first over the goalie’s pads, then just under the glove – right into the back of the net. 

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

The crowd was on their feet in an instant, and the roar they made was deafening. Adora felt a smile practically split her face in two as the goal horn rang, and heard the bench go insane a few feet away. Bow and Glimmer sped over to her, jumping on her and yelling in celebration. “That was a fucking ROCKET!” Glimmer said gleefully, thumping her on the back. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you guys.” Adora felt relief flood her, replaced almost instantly by pure, unfiltered adrenaline. _Take that, Shadow Weaver,_ she thought, watching the scoreboard change from 3-1 to 3-2. They weren’t there yet, of course. But it was a start. The Rebellion wasn’t going down without a fight.

The power play was over with just under a minute to go. Looking down to the bench, she saw Micah signaling to her that her shift was over. 

As soon as she was back on solid ground, her teammates were swarming her, all congratulations and cheers, which Adora accepted gratefully before sitting down for a much-needed drink of water. 

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see Catra above her, eyes shining with something Adora couldn’t place. She gave her a smile, at least – she _did_ just score a kickass goal, after all – but it slipped off her face quickly, replaced by an expression that was tight and worried. 

Adora’s brow furrowed in concern. “Whoa, is-is everything okay?”

“She’s here, Adora.” The words were quiet, and it took a second for Adora to realize who she meant. She swallowed hard. Catra searched her face nervously, looking for a reaction. “She said–” Catra shook her head, leaning forward to give them better privacy. “She said she wants to talk to you.”

Adora blinked, then blinked again, trying to quell the sudden nausea she felt building up inside her. “You–you spoke to her?”

“Sort of,” Catra said, eyes flicking back to the ice where the neutral zone faceoff was about to happen. “Before the start of the period. She cornered me in the halls. Said she–she knew we were… close, and that she wanted me to give you a message.”

“How the _fuck_ did she find out–”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Catra interrupted, voice a little shaky. “And it’s kinda freaking me out.”

“Okay,” Adora said, exhaling. “Okay. Um. Well, thanks for telling me. Did-did she say when?”

“Between periods,” said Catra quietly, squeezing her shoulder. “Adora, you don’t have to talk to her.”

 _I wish that were true_ , Adora thought, taking off her glove to put a warm (and sweaty, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that) hand over where Catra’s rested against her shoulder pads. “Yeah,” She murmured. “I’ll think about it, alright?”

“Alright.” Catra turned her hand over, holding Adora’s gently for a moment. Across the bench, Micah was beckoning her over. “I gotta go,” She said, turning to leave. “Loose a tooth out there, alright?”

The now-familiar phrase made Adora smile, and let her think for a second that everything would be okay. “I will.”

*** * ***

So, Catra was having a moment.

For one, some random, _incredibly_ tall woman had cornered her in the hallway back from the locker room, like, twenty minutes agoand told her in a low voice that she was Adora’s old coach and wanted to speak to her. 

Catra had known who she was instantly, of course – she’d watched a few of Adora’s old games to get a better feel for how her playing style had changed, and Shadow Weaver was hard to miss even on the bench – but that didn’t stop her stomach from flipping nervously. She’d asked why Shadow Weaver was asking _her_ , of all people, and when she’d laughed and said, “You’re close to her, aren’t you? Make yourself useful and find her for me at the end of this period. I’ll be waiting.”

So, of course, Catra had gone immediately to Angella, because if anyone would know how to handle the situation it would be the people who Adora considered her parents. Micah had been busy at the time, but Angella had understood instantly the severity of the situation. 

“I have to tell her,” Catra had said frantically, pointing back towards the corridor. “She can’t be ambushed by that.”

“I know,” Angella had said. She’d put a hand on Catra’s shoulders after that, and Catra had realized vaguely that it was the patented Soothing Mom Touch. Glimmer had done it to her one time while she was getting heated on the phone with an official after the Salineas game. It was weird, but not… entirely unpleasant. “Tell her after something good happens, alright? It’ll soften the blow.”

She could feel her heart constricting, like a fist was clenching around it. “Why would she want to talk?” Catra asked in a low, worried whisper. “What, is she-is she trying to get in her head? And how would she know we’re close?”

Angella had held up a hand to placate her. “Catra, if you keep thinking like that you won’t be able to stop. If she _is_ trying to get into your heads, it seems like it’s working,” She’d said, raising an eyebrow. “Ignore her. She’s only dangerous if we treat her as dangerous.”

“You’re probably right,” Catra murmured, eyes flicking back to the locker room. “But it– I don’t know, it just makes me worried.”

“Of course it does.” Micah had suddenly popped up beside them. “Adora told us what Shadow Weaver did to her when she first joined the team. Believe me, I’m in the same boat as you. And...” He trailed off. “She was my old coach, too. I know how she thinks. Don’t give her that kind of power over you.”

 _Now_ that _had been a surprise_ , Catra thought, watching the Rebellion set up on the ice. They were well into the second period by now, and although Adora’s goal had put them back on equal footing with the Horde, Catra was worried. They hadn’t been targeting her, not exactly. Then again, she wasn’t aware of any of their other players on the team that had taken three punches to the face and had been knocked flat on the ice. 

They were nearing the halfway point of the game, and Catra watched as the Horde won the faceoff against Swift Wind’s line and sent the puck over to one of the wings. Swift Wind and Perfuma skated backwards, making sure they wouldn’t face an odd-man rush, as Frosta came out of nowhere to slam into the wing. 

It was a move they’d practiced many, many times since Catra had first pointed it out, and every time she saw it she felt a glow of pride. It was nice to see the team implementing her strategies into the game, she thought. After Bow, Glimmer, and Adora had done the same thing earlier in the game, she almost thought the Horde would have known better. 

_Guess I got it in one_ , she thought, watching Swift Wind get a stick on the puck and send it behind him to Netosssa. _They don’t have the teamwork to make it happen_. _God, I love being right._

On the ice, she watched Netossa start skating up the ice, passing to Spinnerella– no, wait. That wasn’t true. 

The pass was intercepted just before Spinerella could get it by a player Catra recognized with a dull, sinking dread as #1. 

_Oh, shit._

Prime now had the puck in an almost entirely empty zone. It was like he had come out of nowhere. Now, with completely fresh legs and lightning-fast skating, he dodged Netossa’s attempt to poke check him easily, and deked almost at the speed of light around Scorpia’s stick before sending the puck hurtling past her and–

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

Right into the back of the net. 

_Fuck._

Scorpia slammed her stick against one of the goalposts, and Catra knew she was cursing to herself under the mask. The Rebellion bench groaned loudly even as the Horde began to celebrate. _God_ , Catra thought, watching the almost-robotic way they waved their hands. _Even their cellys are boring. That’s embarrassing._

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Adora’s jaw clench. There was already bruising on it, she noticed with a wince. She made a mental note to find her some ice, or maybe a bag of frozen peas. The cut on her face was healing well, Catra thought, but it would probably scar.

(Realistically, she knew she should probably feel sympathy or, like, guilt or something about that, but honestly? She thought it was kind of hot.)

Looking back to the game, Catra watched nervously as the scoreboard changed to read 4-2. _We have time_ , she told herself. _We can still do this_.

Adora’s line was next up on the ice, and she saw Bow and Glimmer hop over the boards with her as they skated out to center ice. Catra looked around, clocking the Horde players opposing them, until she saw–

 _Prime_. 

Moving over to Micah, she leaned over and said, low enough that she wouldn’t be heard, “Micah, #1 is still on the ice. What do we do?”

Micah cursed under his breath. “That means he and Adora are about to face off.” He paused, turning to Catra with a reassuring nod. “But that’s okay. If any line could go up against them, it’s this one.” She wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to convince. 

Catra crossed her arms over her chest. On the ice, Prime skated up to Adora. She could see words being exchanged on the ice, and watched Adora’s jaw tighten in anger for half a second before the puck was dropped and she drew her stick back, sending the puck over to where Mermista was waiting behind her. 

Just like that, the game was back on. Mermista took the puck up the ice, doing her best to weave between two Horde players, and passed it through them to Sea Hawk. Catra winced from the bench as she watched Prime lay a massive check on him almost instantly, taking the puck and starting to carry it back up into the neutral zone. 

Sea Hawk was slow to get up, and it looked like he was in a lot of pain, but there hadn’t been a penalty called on the play. _Bullshit_ , Catra thought, watching the rest of the Rebellion wheel after Prime. 

Glimmer made it back to her own zone first, followed by Adora half a second later. Prime tried to skate around them, aiming again for Scorpia’s stick side, but Adora came to a stop right ahead of him and slammed him with one of the biggest hits Catra had ever seen, knocking him flat on the ice and sending her on top of him with the force of it. Bow skated up, took the puck, and sent it flying over to Glimmer on the opposite wing.

Adora recovered faster than Prime did, and got to her feet with the clear intent of chasing them up the ice. Then, Catra watched as his stick shot out and hooked around her leg, tripping her right as she was about to start moving, and sending her crashing down to the ice again. Prime stood up, giving her a smug smile.

Catra felt fear, cold and icy, grip her as the bench shot up in outrage, yelling at the linesman about – in Frosta’s words – where the _fucking_ whistle was. 

He shrugged, shaking his head before skating back up the ice. _Are you fucking kidding me?_ Catra thought, watching in horror as Adora tried to struggle to her feet again, only for her knee to give out under her. 

_Oh, shit._

“Micah,” She said, an edge of panic slipping into her voice, “We have to get her out of there.”

In the neutral zone, the Horde regained control of the puck, and began to charge towards the goal. Bow and Glimmer did their best to chase them down, but the Horde line, which she realized had changed, had fresher legs. 

“We can’t risk it,” Micah said through gritted teeth. “We need to hold off this rush first.”

Catra looked back at Adora with wide eyes, watching her use her stick to struggle to her feet. This time, she was able to stand, and began skating backwards slowly, trying to put herself between them and the goal. Prime was still on the ice, she realized, even though his line had changed around him. 

It was a 3-on-1 rush, and Adora kind of looked like she was going to throw up, but she put her stick out to the side, clearly trying to block shots in as wide of a radius as she could create. 

Prime passed the puck behind him to one of his wings, who drew her attention and faked a shot to the other side of Scorpia, trying to make Adora dive for it.

She was smarter than that, obviously, and didn’t. 

The Horde wing drew her attention, dangling in front of him, then between his legs. He was clearly trying to put on a show, but Adora had done that move herself too many times to be fooled by it. She started moving towards him. 

Sure enough, just as he tried to pass over to where Catra could see Prime setting up near the slot, Adora got a stick on it. Narrowly avoiding being checked by one of the wings, she sent a quick saucer pass flying over his stick to where Mermista and Sea Hawk had just entered the zone. 

Catra released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Mermista kept the puck firmly in their defensive zone, finally allowing for a shift change, and she watched with bated breath as Adora, Bow, and Glimmer began skating on tired legs back to the bench. 

As soon as Adora made it back on, going through the gate, she waved off Angella’s worried expression and sat down. The arena was louder than anything she’d ever heard, but she could still make out Adora telling her, “I’m fine, Angella. Really. It just-it hurt in the moment. I’m okay now.” Catra wasn’t sure she believed that – Adora was good at hiding when she was in pain, but not _that_ good – and felt her brow furrow out of concern. 

She looked up at the clock. _Three minutes to go in the period_. _Wow. I didn’t realize that much time had passed_ , she thought, crossing her arms over her chest.

Catra tried her best to focus on the game, but her eyes kept flicking over to where Adora sat every few seconds, watching her jaw clench and tighten in flashes of pain. She forced her attention back to the scene in front of them. 

On the ice, she saw Perfuma, Frosta, and Swift Wind trying frantically to stave off a renewed attack by the Horde. Prime was still on the ice. In the Rebellion zone, the Horde began to pass the puck around, and Catra could barely see it as it zipped through the zone first to the corner, then behind the net to the opposite wall, then to Prime in the slot, and then–

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

“Fuck,” Catra breathed, watching the puck skitter out from where it had hit the bar and landed in the net. The arena groaned loudly, and she heard more than a few jeers and curses. Scorpia shook her head, skating behind the net to get another drink of water. When she lifted her mask up, she made eye contact with Catra, who gave her a sympathetic nod. 

Above her, the score changed to read 5-2. 

Beside her, Micah made a signal to Glimmer, and she nodded before turning to Bow and Adora. From this distance, and with the crowd as loud as it was, she couldn’t hear them, but whatever it was made Adora’s jaw tighten again as she nodded. A few seconds later, the three of them were hopping over the bench onto the ice. 

Prime was _finally_ off, she realized, and looked over to the Horde bench to see him talking to– Shadow Weaver. They finished their conversation, and Catra saw Shadow Weaver staring directly at Adora on the ice. _That can’t be good._

Catra watched as she made a small, deliberate motion with her hand. She frowned, looking back at where Adora was getting set up. One of the defenders, a larger guy wearing #4, was facing the bench and nodded once. 

She could feel dread building up inside her as Adora skated forward to take the faceoff. As per usual, she won it easily, knocking the puck behind her to Netossa’s waiting stick. Netossa passed to Glimmer, who sent it back to Adora, who was promptly knocked flat by #4 and sent sprawling across the ice. Catra’s stomach flipped. 

Once again, the players on the bench sprang to their feet. Once again, there was no whistle. 

After a moment, she struggled to her feet again, moving into position and skating up the ice while the Rebellion tried with increasing desperation to score another goal.

Moments from the game began to come together in Catra’s mind. All the checks, all the hits, all the calls that the refs wouldn’t give – they were targeting her. Then there were the unpenalized hits on the rest of the team, the ones that had been cropping up all game without an explanation. 

Combine all that and what did you end up with? 

A tired, beaten-down team that couldn’t defend against heavy offense.

“Fuck,” Catra murmured to herself. She turned to Micah. “I know what they’re doing. Can I talk to the team during the intermission?”

Without looking away from where Adora was battling for the puck along the boards, Micah nodded silently. 

The Horde fought off the attack, and Catra watched as the final minute of play in the period began. The puck sprang free, and Bow, positioned next to Adora, took it before any of the Horde players could get a stick on it. He moved it quickly to the point for Glimmer, and she took a quick wrist shot that had Catra’s heart leaping, then dropping once she heard it _ding_ off the post and back onto the ice. 

_20 seconds left._ Around them, the crowd groaned again as the Horde center took the puck behind the net before passing to one of the wings, clearly trying to waste time.

 _10 seconds._ Out of nowhere, Adora intercepted it, and if Catra hadn’t already been standing, she would have shot to her feet. 

Adora dropped it back for Bow as she pushed back against a Horde forward trying to check her. They fell to the ground. Suddenly, Bow had a clear shot to the net. From a distance Catra hadn’t thought possible, he shifted his weight to his front foot suddenly and fired the hardest and most accurate wrist shot she’d ever seen past the goalie and directly into the back of the net. 

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

The buzzer sounded not a second later, and the players on the ice, the Rebellion bench, and just about every person in the arena jumped to their feet and roared as, above them, the scoreboard read 5-3. 

Catra felt herself screaming alongside them, caught up in the glory and pure, unrestrained joy of the moment. 

Watching Adora skate over and jump on Bow, clapping him and Glimmer on the back, she felt a smile spread across her face. And obviously Catra knew they had a long way to go before they would lift a trophy, but 20 minutes on the ice was a lot of time. 

A short rap at the glass behind her drew Catra’s attention. 

On the other side of the bench, Shadow Weaver was facing her. She nodded once, jerking her head back towards the halls before holding up two fingers. _Two minutes,_ she realized distantly.

Not knowing what else to do, Catra nodded, feeling fear and dread replace triumph in her chest.

*** * ***

Adora had felt nerves bubbling in her chest for the entire game, but they took on an entirely different nature when she saw Catra waiting nervously for her in a corner of the locker room after the period ended. She remembered, all at once, what she was about to do.

Nausea hit her in a crashing, tumbling wave as she made her way inside. “Shit. Is it time?” Adora asked quietly. 

At Catra’s nod, she exhaled quickly. “And she’s in the door to their locker room?”

Another nod. “Adora, you don’t have to do this.”

“I do.” Feeling her heart start to pound, Adora tried to breathe deep, like Perfuma had taught her. _In for 4, hold for 4, out for 4. Repeat._ “Catra, would you– can you come with me?” The words came out shaky, barely above a whisper. 

Adora didn’t expect much. After all, Catra had no attachment to Shadow Weaver, and they were still in kind of a hard-to-navigate spot in their relationship, so she wasn’t expecting much. She didn’t blame her, of course. But Adora was used to confronting things like this on her own. She prepared herself for a rejection, no matter how soft.

Instead, Catra just took Adora’s glove off her hand, and brought her own over to lace their fingers together and squeeze it tightly. “Yeah,” She said, reaching up – Adora realized their normal height difference was exaggerated at the moment –to gently touch Adora’s face, putting a warm hand on her cheek for a moment. “Of course I will. Are you sure you want me there?”

Adora thought about it for a moment. “Yeah,” She said quietly. “I am. I-I know you didn’t know her, but…” She trailed off. “You make me feel safe.”

A small, awed smile replaced the nervousness on Catra’s face. “You’re a D1 hockey player that eats protein for every meal, and _I’m_ what makes you feel safe? You know you have, like, six inches on me right now?” 

Adora felt a laugh bubble out of her, leaning into the hand on her face. “Well, when you put it like that, maybe I should reconsider.”

“We both know I was joking. Mostly,” Catra swallowed, brushing a stray piece of hair out of Adora’s face. “And I feel safe around you, too. If that’s what you need right now, I’m happy to be there for you.” 

“Then let’s go,” Adora said, taking a final deep breath to calm her nerves. “I saw you talking to Micah, though. I know you have stuff to tell the team. You’re free to leave whenever you want.” She searched Catra’s face after the words, trying to gauge her reaction. 

Catra shrugged noncommittally. “Sure. I’ll keep it in mind. But, Adora…” She stopped for a moment, trying to find the words. “There are things more important than a strategy meeting. This is one of them.”

If it wasn’t already hard not to kiss Catra whenever she saw her, that only made it harder. Her voice was soft, and coupled with the hand on her cheek, it would be so easy to just–

 _No,_ Adora thought. _Focus._

Adora nodded, averting her eyes and pulling gently away from Catra’s grasp. “Thank you,” She said quietly, and began to lead her down the hallway. 

As soon as she pulled the door open, Adora could see Shadow Weaver waiting with her back to her. The sight alone made her want to throw up, skate laps, and have a few stiff drinks all at the same time. She stopped with Catra a little behind her, as if she was trying to protect her from something. 

Shakily, she cleared her throat, gripping Catra’s hand like a lifeline. “You wanted to see me?” Adora tried to make the words sound more confident than they were, but her voice had a noticeable waver to it. 

“Yes,” said Shadow Weaver, turning slowly to face her. She hadn’t changed a bit – still all long dresses and a low, threatening voice. “Ah, and look at this. You brought your… friend. What a nice surprise.”

“What do you want?” Adora asked bluntly, already trying to blink back tears at the sound of the familiar, horrible voice.

“Where are your manners?” Shadow Weaver shook her head. “I knew college would change you. You used to be so polite, Adora. You were confident, self-assured. Now,” She said, gesturing to where Adora’s hands shook and her jaw clenched tightly. “You can’t even look me in the eyes. If you’d been drafted–”

“Don’t,” Adora said quietly. 

“–This wouldn’t have happened to you.” She _tsk_ ed, moving closer and closer with every word. “You would have been a champion. Instead, you’re going to fail again. This time, it’s going to be in the place you went as a worst-case scenario. How typical.” Shadow Weaver shook her head. “I wanted to see you, Adora, because I want you to know something.

“No matter what you do next period, you and your _pathetic_ Rebellion will never beat the Horde. And _you_ ,” Shadow Weaver spat, pressing a finger into her chest, “Will never be as good as Prime.”

“That’s what this is about?” Adora croaked, voice coming out barely above a whisper. “Your new golden boy?”

“No,” Shadow Weaver said plainly. “He’s always been better than you. He always will be.”

Behind her, she could feel Catra’s hand shaking a little with what she assumed was fear. 

It was not. 

“What,” Catra seethed, letting go of Adora’s hand and moving slowly closer to Shadow Weaver, “Is your _fucking problem?_ ”

“Catra, you don’t have to–”

“Seriously, is your life _that_ fucking pathetic? You _seriously_ have to resort to-to emotionally abusing one of your former students in order to feel a sliver of joy?” Catra shook her head, leaning back. “Get the fuck out of here. I’m serious.”

Shadow Weaver turned to Catra with a flash of annoyance. “And who, _exactly_ , do you think you are?”

“I’m a fucking Rebellion coach,” Catra grit out, jabbing a finger into Shadow Weaver’s chest. “And I swear to God, if you say _another_ _fucking thing_ to her, I’m getting you ejected from the game. You can watch the game at the sports bar across the street just like every other washed-up has-been.” Rage dripped from her voice, and Adora found herself staring, wide-eyed, at Catra’s furious expression. 

Ahead of her, Shadow Weaver glowered at her, clearly trying to formulate a response. She opened her mouth to speak, but Adora beat her to it. “Catra’s right. I’m not going to let you hurt me anymore,” Adora said, meeting her eyes for the first time with an unflinching gaze. “I’m proud of my team, and I-I’m... proud of myself. We’re going to win this game, Shadow Weaver.”

The words gave her an instant feeling of catharsis. Adora turned to leave, linking Catra’s hand in her own again. As the two of them made for the door, Shadow Weaver saw their joint hands and narrowed her eyes. “Oh, how sweet.” Her voice held a hollow note of victory. “I should have known. Adora, this girl... you know she’ll only distract you. She’ll keep you from becoming who you truly are.”

“No, she won’t,” Adora said, still facing away. “That was just a bullshit lie you fed me to keep me crawling back to you every time. And, frankly,” She said, half turning, “I don’t have to justify myself to you anymore. Enjoy the game.”

As the door closed behind them, Catra raised her eyebrows. “Holy shit, Adora. That was, like, _really_ impressive.”

“I never would have been able to do it if it wasn’t for you,” Adora said, and meant it. “The way you had my back in there, I–” She shook her head. “You saved me. Catra, I-I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Thank me? Are you kidding? That felt fucking _awesome_ ,” Catra said, squeezing her hand. “I’m going to remember that forever.”

“My knight in shining armor,” Adora chuckled softly. “I’m serious, though. If I’d gone through that on my own… I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Then I’m glad you won’t have to find out.” The words were succinct. Catra brought the back of Adora’s hand up to her face and pressed a gentle kiss there. “I’m proud of you for doing that, Adora.”

Adora smiled. “Thank you.” Her eyes flicked over to the clock. “Oh, shit. You have a team meeting to get to.”

“Um, _we_ have a team meeting to get to, _captain._ ”

“No special treatment, huh?”

“Absolutely not,” Catra said with a grin. “Come on. Twenty more minutes and we’re national champions.”

*** * ***

Adora felt like she was seeing the crowd for the first time when she skated back out to take her first faceoff of the third period. It was almost suffocating. Thousands and thousands of people – some of whom, she realized, were wearing her jersey – all cheering and chanting. The first few shifts of it had been scoreless and mostly uneventful, and the clock read 17:29 above them.

She almost thought she’d be up against #23 again (whether or not he’d try and go for round three was beyond her) but instead, she saw Prime skating over. “Hello again,” He said, voice dripping with disdain. “How’s your leg?”

Adora’s eyes narrowed by a fraction. “Shut up.”

“How eloquent,” Prime chuckled, shifting his hold on his stick to take the faceoff. “I can see your team is lacking both in words _and_ in goals.”

Adora shook her head. “I dunno, man. Eighteen minutes is a long time.” 

“Is it?” Adora thought he smiled, but it looked more like a snarl. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

The puck dropped, and the two of them drew their sticks back at the same time, trapping it between them. Adora shoved him back, and used her skate to kick it out behind her, where she heard Glimmer get a stick on it. 

Just like that, they were back in the game. 

Adora pushed Prime off of her before skating behind Glimmer. The Rebellion started moving into the offensive zone, and Glimmer flew into one of the corners, sending the puck around the back of the net to where Bow was waiting. From there, Adora got in position, and when the pass from Bow came in, she was ready. 

The puck hit her stick with a _clack_ , and as she brought it back in an exaggerated wind-up, she saw Glimmer moving into position near the other side of the net-- as in, the one the goalie was _not_ currently blocking. Adora faked a slapshot, bringing her stick down hard and fast before passing the puck at the last second to Glimmer on the other side. 

As the goalie frantically tried to move all the way across the crease, Glimmer’s stick slammed down against the puck, and sent it just over his stick. It _dinged_ against the bar, and Adora felt her heart stop as she watched it change direction, falling just behind the goalie’s blocker and bouncing into the net. 

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

The crowd was on their feet in an instant, and they were banging on the glass and jumping on each other in the seats hard enough that Adora figured they’d probably register on the Richter scale. She and Glimmer ran to each other, and as Adora picked her up in a massive hug, she felt a familiar burning sensation inside her. 

Normally, She-Ra felt cold. But now, spinning Glimmer around as best she could without sending them both to the ground all Adora felt was warmth. “YOU DID IT!” She yelled. “Holy _shit_ , Glimmer, that was _amazing!_ ”

Next to them, Bow wrapped them into a massive three-way hug. “Guys, that was incredible! Now we only have one goal to go before we tie it!”

“And two goals,” said Adora, squeezing them tight before pulling away, “Before we _win_ it.”

Accepting their fistbumps and stick taps from the rest of the Rebellion, the three of them skated back to center ice, where Adora met Prime again. He looked significantly less pleased than he had a few minutes prior. “Aww, why the long face? Shadow Weaver didn’t tell you we were _good_ , did she? Nah, she wouldn’t have. Word of advice, bud,” said Adora, letting a smug grin spread across her face, “She lies.”

“Do you _really_ think I care about the little performance you put on? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re still winning.” Prime leaned in with a sickening grin. “And your team is only going to get weaker.”

“Don’t count on it.” The puck dropped, and Adora got her stick on it just barely faster than Prime could, passing to where Bow was waiting on her left. He took it, then skated backwards for a second before sending it over to Netossa to try and get them out of danger. 

Netossa called her name, and as she heard the sound of her stick hitting the puck, Adora turned for a second ready to receive the pass. 

As soon as she got it, Prime came up next to her and slammed her into the boards, and she felt her shoulder, then her head, hit it with a sickening crunch. Pain sparked in her shoulder, and her head started throbbing. _Ow,_ she thought dimly, blinking away black spots in her vision as she slid down the glass. _That hurt._ Prime gave her one last smug, triumphant sneer before taking the puck and skating away. 

At this point, he was _really_ starting to get on Adora’s nerves. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and got back to her feet before making her way down the ice, trying to stay close on the backcheck. She clocked two other players coming up, and put herself between Prime and his teammates to try and cut off his passing opportunities. 

The Horde flew down the ice, but they were met in speed and ability by the Rebellion. Prime sent a pass ahead of him, bouncing the puck off the boards to one of his teammates, and almost flattened Glimmer over while moving to the other side of the net. Adora watched as her best friend was knocked to the ground, sliding across the ice with a surprised grunt of pain. 

Yet again, there was no whistle. 

_That settles it._

Adora could feel her knee throbbing in pain beneath her, but in that moment, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She pushed herself harder, hearing the ice carve beneath her feet, until she was right next to Prime. “Hey, asshole,” Adora said, panting a little from the exertion. “You’ve been roughing up me and my teammates all game. I’m fucking sick of it.”

Prime’s eyes were firmly fixed on the other side of the ice, where the Rebellion and Horde battled for the puck on the boards. “And? What are you going to do about it?”

“I considered a few different options,” Adora said, moving with him while he changed positions, “But the one I like best is beating the shit out of you.”

He paused, turning to her with an incredulous look on his face. “How many hits have you taken already tonight, Captain? Three? Four? You’re weak. You could never win against me. ”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.” Without any further hesitation, Adora threw her gloves to the ground and unclasped her helmet, letting it drop to the ice. 

Prime watched her and scoffed. “Fine. Have fun in your hospital bed, _She-Ra_.” He dropped his stick and pulled his gloves off before throwing his helmet to the ground behind him. Around them, the crowd went berserk. Play was whistled dead, allowing both teams a brief respite, and as the eyes of the arena fell on the two of them circling, Adora met Catra’s on the bench for half a second. 

She braced herself for a horrified, half-frightened look. Instead, Catra just nodded at her. _Get his ass_ , she mouthed. If Adora hadn’t been sure before, she was now.

Moving faster than she’d thought possible, she grabbed a fistful of Prime’s jersey and sent a punch to the side of his face, feeling his cheek crunch underneath her knuckles with a grunt. Her feeling of victory was short-lived, however, because the next thing she felt was his fist slamming into her nose. 

_Fuck_ , Adora thought as pain stabbed into her face. Her head was forced back, tilting up out of reflex as her hand flew to her nose, and she could feel blood running down her face. _It’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll focus on it later_. 

Looking back at him with what she hoped was a threatening enough glare, she dodged a punch and sent two more rock-hard jabs to his jaw and cheek, feeling triumph ring hollow inside her at the sight of blood spurting out of his mouth. 

Prime doubled over, and for a second Adora thought he was done already. He wasn’t. Readjusting, he sent a lightning-fast uppercut right to her jaw. Her head snapped up from the force of it, and she felt herself crashing down to the ice. She felt the cut on her face reopen from the force of the landing, and the thin line of blood on the ice beneath her only confirmed it.

The crowd gasped and booed, and the ref began to skate over to them before Adora held up a hand. “We’re not done here.” She pushed herself to her feet with a grunt, ignoring the twinge in her knee. 

Adora spat out a mouthful of blood and brought her fists up again. In front of her, Prime laughed. “You never know when to give up, do you? If you were smart, you’d let this end.”

“Well, I’m not.” Adora realized a second too late what she’d said, and figured it was too late to go back and try and fix it. Instead, she decided to just hit him again.

He scoffed. “That much is cle–” Adora interrupted him with a right hook to the cheek, and didn’t stop punching him even when she felt his fist connecting hard with the side of her face. Blood was gathering in her mouth again, so she spat it at his face. _Gross? Yes. Effective? Also yes._

He cringed at the feeling, making a loud noise of disgust, and in the second he hesitated, Adora threw a lightning-fast hit to his nose, and felt it break under her knuckles. Prime yelled in pain, looking at her with furious eyes. The next punch she took almost broke her jaw, and she felt the added pain of it explode on her face. She felt something dislodge painfully in her mouth. 

It sent her to one knee, and Prime tilted her chin up with one blood-stained hand. He raised his other one, clearly savoring the feeling of delivering the final strike.

She heard the crowd boo even louder, and could hear fans slamming on the glass separating them in anger.

Then, Adora heard something _very_ different. 

“Okay, it’s fucking _ON!_ ”

Her head snapped over, looking at the other side of the ice. She saw Glimmer throw down her gloves, with Bow following almost immediately, and watched as they brought their fists up. With what sounded suspiciously like a battle cry, Glimmer dove at the Horde player she’d been battling for the puck, tackled him to the ground, and threw a few punches to his face. 

That was all it took for the rest of the ice to erupt in violence.

Mermista was next to drop the gloves, throwing a massive right hook into the face of the Horde player she’d been defending, which was followed immediately by Sea Hawk tackling a guy trying to hit her. Bow threw an elbow into his man, sending him into the Rebellion bench, where he was instantly met with taunts and jeers from the team. 

Time stood still for a second while Adora watched it happen.

 _They’re sticking up for me_ , she realized. The thought brought a small smile to her face. _I’m not alone._

Turning back to Prime, she saw him also watching the scene in front of them, fist still poised to strike in the air. 

That gave her an opening. 

She thought briefly about what she could do – if she took the hit, she’d probably get knocked out, and that would be embarrassing, painful, and possibly concussive. So that wasn’t an option. 

_Tackling it is, then._

Using her leg to push off awkwardly, she sprang at his waist. It wasn’t a pretty tackle – she was sure any rugby or football players in the crowd would have cringed at her form – but it worked. The sudden change in balance knocked him to the ice with a dull thud and above them, Adora heard the crowd roar in deafening approval. 

He blinked once, then twice, before trying to stumble to his feet. She knocked him over again, sending another punch to his face, widening the cut that had split open on his cheek, until blood covered her knuckles. 

Prime tried to flip them over, but she brought a knee down hard on his arm, and pinned him. “Give it up,” She said. “You’re not winning this.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Prime seethed. It was the only warning she got before his head slammed into hers, knocking her backwards with the force of it. 

Her head spun from the hit, her vision was suddenly blurry. _Shit. Focus, Adora,_ she thought, desperately trying to keep her eyes open. _Come on._

“Don’t you understand?” Prime coughed, trying to push himself up. “You’re never going to win. Not against me, not against the Horde.”

“You’re wrong,” Adora croaked, blinking away the pain in her head. “Look at your team. You guys are separated. There’s no unity there. At least if _we_ lose, we lose together. Trust me–” She staggered to her feet, “–If you lose, there’s not going to be anyone there to have your back.”

“You’re wrong,” said Prime with the barest hint of unease. “Our team is unified through our _strength_.”

“Congratulations.” Adora put her fists back up, feeling blood drip down her face. “But look around you. My team’s fighting _for_ me, not because of me.”

They faced each other again, jabbing and dodging until Prime threw an obvious, half-desperate punch at her, and Adora caught his fist in her hand easily. His other hand was still fisted in her jersey for balance, and she held tightly to where he was struggling against her.

She hit him in the stomach, watching him double over in pain, “That’s for hooking me. _This_ is for checking me.” He looked up, and she sent a hard punch to the jaw. “And this,” She said, panting a little, “Is for Shadow Weaver. Send her my regards.” Her fist met his nose with a sickening crack, and he fell to the ice almost instantly.

This time, he didn’t make any moves to get up. 

Relief washed over Adora as the crowd leapt again to their feet, and her fists dropped limply to her sides. Fresh blood was pooling in her mouth, so she turned and spat it out on the ice.

With a start, she felt something else leave with it. 

Looking down at the ice, she saw a small speck of white and realized, in equal parts shock and mild disgust, that it was one of her teeth. A molar, by the looks of it. She prodded her tongue experimentally around her mouth, feeling a spark of pain from the side Prime had punched a few moments prior.

As the refs pulled her away and helped Prime stagger off the ice, Bow and Glimmer, who were slightly bloodied, but otherwise victorious, skated over to check on her. Bow had a cut on his lip, and it looked like Glimmer had taken a hit to the face that would leave her with a black eye, but they didn’t seem to care. Instead, they were staring at Adora’s face in poorly contained horror. “Adora, holy _fuck,_ are-are you okay?”

Even though it hurt her to do it, Adora couldn’t resist giving them a red-stained smile, holding up the now-escaped tooth in her hand. “Never better. Why? Do I look bad?” It was a trick question, really. She knew part of her lip was busted, and would need stitches, and she could feel a long wound burning at her forehead that she was sure would probably scar. 

Just as planned, Bow’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Did you–”

“Lose a tooth?” Adora finished. “Sure did.” On the ice, the battles seemed to die down, and the adrenaline coursing through her body lessened. She felt pain rip through her body. Her knee buckled, and she would have fallen to the ice if not for Bow and Glimmer’s strong hands helping her back up. 

“Whoa, Adora,” Bow said, patting her on the back. “Take it easy.” 

“I’m fine. I’ll have plenty of time in the box to heal up.” She ground the words out, gritting her teeth through the new, terrible pain. 

“Actually, _we’ll_ have plenty of time in the box,” Glimmer corrected. 

Adora poked her tongue at the newly-created hole in her mouth. _Oh well,_ she thought, stepping gingerly into the box. _It was bound to happen someday_. 

She scooted over, making room for Bow, Glimmer, Mermista, and Sea Hawk. The five of them fit, if only barely, and all of them wore a radiant smile. “Not gonna lie, that was pretty fun. I can see why you like doing it,” Mermista said, leaning over to talk to Adora. “Maybe I’ll fight more next season.”

“Be my guest,” Adora said with a grin, rolling her tooth between her fingers to show her.

“Ew, wait, is that yours?” Instantly, Mermista recoiled. “Dude. Gross. I take it back. Also, do you need, like, medical attention?”

“Probably,” Adora said with a shrug. “It’s cool. I’ll deal with it later.” Bow and Glimmer both fixed her with a disapproving stare. She felt herself melting underneath it. “Okay, fine. When we’re back on the bench, I’ll talk to Angella.”

“Better,” Glimmer said with a nod. On the ice, Perfuma’s line was setting up with Spinnerella and Netossa on defense. The Horde’s whole top line (aside from being freshly beaten up) was also in the box, so they were faced off against the Horde’s second line. 

The puck dropped, and the Horde won the draw. Adora leaned forward in her seat, watching intently as the game continued before her eyes.

She flicked her gaze up to look at the clock. _16:09_. They had time. 

*** * ***

By the time Adora’s line went back on the ice -- after their time in the box was up, Angella had strictly forbidden them from leaving until she could see to their injuries -- only 6 minutes remained in the game. The score had been tied only a few seconds before by a well-placed shot by Frosta that slid effortlessly through the goalie’s legs. 

It read 5-5 above Catra’s head, and there was no way in hell she would let herself give up on them now. She knew the team too well for that. She believed in them too much. And, hell, after three unanswered goals and a successful line brawl, it was hard not to think they were turning the tide.

 _Still,_ she thought. _Hard not to feel a little nervous._

God, Adora’s face was fucked _up_. And granted, it looked a lot better when Angella had helped her clean the blood off of it after their line had been allowed out of the box. “Every time we have a game, what do I ask you to do?” Angella had asked, shaking her head as she helped clean the blood off. 

“Nothing that draws blood,” Adora had grumbled, wincing in pain as Angella’s towel touched the edge of the long, fresh cut on her face.. “I know.”

Angella had just sighed, putting a small butterfly on the cut to help keep it closed until they could stitch it up. “I’m making you wear a bubble next year. I mean it this time.” Catra hadn’t been able to talk to her about it, but when Adora had sat down she’d held something small and white up in the air _._

(She’d grinned like a dumbass, too. When Catra realized it was a tooth -- like, an actual bone from her mouth that had physically abandoned her body because of a fight -- she’d been kind of grossed out. Then the meaning struck her, and she felt both overwhelmed by love and blindsided by dramatic irony.)

Currently, Adora was preparing to take a faceoff in her own zone against someone on the Horde’s first power play unit. Immediately after her goal, Frosta had accidentally tripped one of the opposing players, and had gotten a quick 2 minutes for it. Right now, she was waving cheerfully to Glimmer from the box. 

Catra knew this would be an important penalty to kill. The team’s luck had been getting better, but there was no telling if – or _when_ – it would expire. The ref threw down the puck, and Adora won the draw without difficulty, sending it bumping back against the boards where she picked it up herself. Moving behind the net, Adora sent a pass to Netossa at the corner, narrowly avoiding the stick of a Horde player. 

Netossa took it, sending it across the ice to Spinnerella, who ducked easily around one of their opponents before clearing it out of their zone without hesitation. _Good_ , thought Catra, watching the power play timer tick down as the Horde ran after it. _Get them wasting time._

Precious seconds ticked away before the Horde began to come back up the ice in that same doomed formation. Catra watched Adora say something to Glimmer, and a second later they were skating up to them. Glimmer checked the winger with the puck, Adora stole it away and wove around them, and just like that she was striding up the ice towards their offensive zone. 

The crowd leapt to their feet as the breakaway began, and Adora came right up to the defenders before dodging with a move Catra recognized as one of her own spins. Then, it was just her and the goalie. Adora faked a shot to one side before turning in front of the net, hard, and sending a quick wrist shot against the post of the other side with a _ding_.

Catra, the bench, and the arena held their breath, until–

_BWOOOOOOOOOOW!_

Catra felt her heart soar as she (and the other 20,000 people there) leapt into the air, cheering in victory as Adora began the giddiest celebration she’d ever seen. Bow and Glimmer both practically threw their equipment to the side to jump on her, and it wasn’t long before Netossa, Spinnerella, and, one by one, the entire Rebellion bench joined her out there. 

There were only a few minutes left in the game, and now all they had to do was hold on. 

Catra watched as the rest of the power play clock ticked down, finally ending after another minute and a half. _Four minutes to go_.

The penalty kill unit skated off the ice, replaced by a fresher line. 

For the next stretch of time, Scorpia and the Rebellion held off attacks from the Horde, until the final two minutes of the game, when the Horde goalie started gunning for the bench and an extra skater -- Prime, she realized dimly, and his face was _fucked up_ \-- hopped on the ice. _They’re trying to tie it,_ Catra realized, trying to tamp down the nervous feeling she got at the realization.

An extra skater took to the ice in his place, and the Rebellion compressed itself into a tight formation around the zone, preparing for anything and everything. The Horde began an assault, passing at the speed of light all around the zone trying to confuse Scorpia and the defenders. 

Catra watched one of them take a rocket of a shot from the point that Scorpia gloved almost effortlessly, earning a whistle and a stoppage of play from the referee. 

Beside her, Micah called to Adora, Bow, and Glimmer to change out for the line on the ice. They hopped over the boards quickly, going to set up at the nearest faceoff dot. 

*** * ***

Adora set up for her faceoff, crouching down and preparing her stick. Her stomach was flip-flopping out of anticipation, and she could feel her blood thundering in her ears. _82 seconds. That’s it. 82 seconds and we win._

The puck dropped, and she sent it skittering behind the net, where Mermista grabbed it and sent it flying across the zone to Glimmer. A Horde player was charging towards her, and Glimmer used a skate to trap the puck along the boards, managing to take up precious seconds of time before kicking it over to Bow beside her. 

Bow cracked it over to where Sea Hawk set up near the slot, and he sent the puck zooming down the ice, only just missing the empty net. There was a brief groan from the crowd at the miss, but they quieted down quickly, watching the scene nervously. 

_One minute._

The Horde skated back to their own end, and Adora watched Prime pick up the loose puck before beginning another assault down the ice. He sent it along the boards for his wing, and Adora gripped her stick a little tighter as he approached, skating up to meet him. She slammed her upper body into his, sending him crashing against the glass, and kicked the puck back to where Bow was waiting to clear the zone. 

He didn’t have a clear shot, so he passed it to Glimmer across the zone, and she started playing keep-away with the Horde forward charging her. She pulled it between her legs before bouncing it off the boards and spinning to pick it up again, which only infuriated him. She passed it back to Bow, who slammed his stick down against it, sending it all the way along the boards until it stopped behind the Horde’s net. 

Adora chanced a glance up at the clock. Only 34 seconds to go. She didn’t want to let herself hope, but she was getting dangerously close. 

One of the Horde’s defenders sent a pass across the neutral zone to his partner, who quickly cycled the puck along the boards until it was picked up by a forward behind the net. Out of nowhere, he passed it to one of his teammates moving across the slot, who fired a one-timer at Scorpia’s stick side, and Adora felt her heart drop to the floor. 

Scorpia dove for it, stretching her blocker out as far as it would go, and Adora watched the puck bounce off of it back onto the ice right over to where she was standing. 

She wasn’t going to risk a rebound, so she sent the puck back down the ice. It made it into the Horde’s zone, and Adora thought it might go in for a split second before one of their players – Prime again, she realized – got a stick on it, striding up the ice fast. 

He tried a long pass to one of his teammates at the blueline, but Mermista had already set up there, and saw it coming a second before he did. She got a stick on it, sending it back to Adora. Instantly, Adora passed it to Bow, who passed it to Glimmer. At this point, they were trying to waste as much time as they possibly could. If it hadn’t been for the wall of Horde players surrounding them, they would have tried for the empty netter, but quick, unpredictable passing proved more than effective.

The crowd began chanting down from ten around them, and when the puck found Adora’s stick again, even with Prime charging towards her in fury, she fired a shot through his legs, and watched it skitter down the ice before hitting the boards and bouncing around the Horde zone. 

_5_. 

Adora stiffened, watching him chase after it. 

_4_. 

He was close, and just barely managed a stick on it. 

_3_. 

Prime turned, wheeling around to desperately try one last time for a shot. 

_2_. 

He found the blueline, and wound up for a slapshot. 

_1._

His stick _cracked_ down across the ice, sending the puck flying through the air – directly into Scorpia’s waiting glove.

The buzzer sounded, the arena erupted in cheers, and Adora felt like she could cry. 

Her teammates came off the bench in droves, all screaming and cheering (with more than a few shedding tears), and she felt Bow and Glimmer practically tackle her.

“We fucking DID IT!” Glimmer yelled, wrapping her arms around the two of them and squeezing tight. Adora had a smile on her face that threatened to split it open. 

“Goddamn right we did.” Adora grinned without restraint, and almost knocked them all to the ground as she jumped in the air out of pure joy. “I’m so glad you guys are here with me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Love you too, Adora,” Bow said, pressing a kiss to her cheek and Glimmer’s lips.

Movement on the Horde bench caught her eye, and she saw Shadow Weaver meet her eyes before slinking away. Somehow, that was the most satisfying thing that happened all night.

Adora was pretty sure she’d never been happier in her life. Her heart was soaring and pounding all at once, and the pain on her face had almost completely faded from memory. And even though the chaos and glee of the moment created almost a haze around her, she felt a tap on her shoulder cut through it. 

“Hey, Adora.” Turning around slowly, she saw Catra standing in front of her with teary eyes and a massive smile. “How does it feel–”

And Adora knew it was rude to interrupt, but nothing was going to stop her.

She put her hands on the sides of Catra’s face and, without hesitation, pulled her in for a searing, half-desperate kiss. Adora felt Catra’s arms winding around her neck almost instantly, tugging her impossibly closer. Adora smiled against her lips. She was faintly aware of hooting and hollering behind them, but couldn’t bring herself to care. 

Catra pulled away first, panting a little as she did. Looking at her wide eyes and wet, parted lips, Adora swore she’d never seen someone look so beautiful. “Wow. Um,” Catra said, breathlessly, “You know, when I said lose a tooth, I didn’t _mean_ it.”

Adora shrugged, moving one of her hands down to brush some of the hair away from Catra’s face. “Call it artistic liberty.” She said with a smile, letting her hand rest on Catra’s cheek. 

In front of her, Catra chuckled before letting her hands rest on the back of Adora’s neck. She gnawed at her lip. Adora tracked the motion with her eyes. “So, um... does this mean we can finally be together?”

“Fuck,” Adora groaned, pressing another quick kiss to Catra’s lips. “Finally. Yes. But, um, full disclosure, I...” She took a deep breath. 

“I love you,” Adora said simply. Catra’s eyes widened, and she continued hastily, “And-and you don’t have to say it back, or feel it back, or anything, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I know Bow told you, but _I_ wanted to tell you, and–”

This time, it was Adora who was interrupted. Catra pulled her down to meet her lips again in a kiss that left her dizzy. “I love you too.” Catra’s face softened, and her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “I think... part of me has since the moment I saw you on center ice that first day.”

“Oh,” Adora breathed, blinking rapidly. “Wow. I kinda thought you were just horny.”

Catra rolled her eyes, ignoring the blush that spread across her cheeks. “You’re such an idiot.” Adora felt the hands on her neck move to her cheeks before gently, insistently pulling her down, and she smiled. 

She leaned in, letting her eyes flutter closed, until she felt Catra’s lips soft and pliant beneath her own. As Catra tilted her head to deepen the kiss, lips parting underneath her, Adora felt like time had stopped around them. 

An awkward cough from Glimmer, however, told her it hadn’t. “Hey, guys, um. I hate to interrupt. This is all… very sweet,” Glimmer said, looking anywhere but the two of them. “But the trophy’s behind you, Adora. Can we focus on that for a sec?”

With a gentle chuckle, Adora pulled back, looking at where Catra bit her lip trying to conceal a smile. “Well, Captain? Are you gonna lift that thing or not?” 

Someone — the referees, she assumed, but she was in no state of mind to really care — had brought out the trophy, and after the pictures and formalities, when Adora held it in her hands that first time, the lightness of it surprised her. It felt right in her hands. 

As she lifted it triumphantly over her head, the grin on her face threatening to split it open, the team – and the fans in the stadium, which she had almost forgotten existed – went ballistic. Confetti, all white, pink, and purple, shot out over them, floating down like magical rain around the ice.

She listened to the deafening, thunderous sound of her team and the arena cheering for her, drinking it in before releasing a roar of her own to match theirs. Holding it aloft again, she presented the trophy to them and felt tears slipping down her face. She brought it down to her lips for the cameras that had appeared at center ice.

And still everything fell away as Adora looked over to Catra, who was watching her with the most radiant smile she’d ever seen. She smiled back like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

_Finally_ , she thought. 

_I’m home._


End file.
